A Decade To Find You
by AlsoAleteia
Summary: Astrid didn't think much of the guy she bumped into just after midnight on January 1, 2010. It wasn't supposed to be special. Hiccup felt the same way. That was, until he locked eyes with her again one year later. And the year after that. And the next. But somehow, as the decade progressed, their destinies only seemed to intertwine to intertwine on New Year's Eve...
1. New Year's Eve 2009-2012

**Chapter 1: New Year's Eve 2009-2012**

**January 1st, 2010**

Astrid didn't really party the way some of her peers did. She didn't sneak out or come up with poor excuses to get wasted with other teens after managing to get her hands on booze through older siblings. That wasn't like her. But that didn't mean she didn't seize opportunities, nor didn't know how to have a good time. So when her friends from kickboxing had asked her to join them in the inner city, she'd shot every piece of ammunition she had at her parents to convince them that at sixteen, she was responsible enough to stay out past midnight. She was basically an adult, after all. And after she'd promised that she wouldn't do anything stupid, let alone illegal, they'd let her go.

Luckily, you didn't have to break the law to have a good time on New Year's Eve in Berk. The large annual winter market in the town's central square stayed around until after New Year's, serving all kinds of food and beverages at its stalls. She'd spent most of that night at the ice rink, but had gathered with her friends at the riverside just before midnight, joining in on the countdown and watching the fireworks when the clock hit midnight, announcing the arrival of the new decade.

Now, she was hopping from one feet onto the other, waiting at one of the stalls and trying to stay warm in the trademark Berkian cold. The line had been killing and she cursed herself for not going further into the city and trying her luck there. But her worries were forgotten when she accepted the two mugs of hot chocolate into her freezing hands.

She turned around, looking through the crowd in an attempt to figure out where Heather was. Her friend had run into her brother and there was no telling what Dagur might be up to... But his red hair and tattooed face did stand out from the crowd.

She squeezed herself through the masses, cradling the mugs to her chest, alternating between craning her neck and standing up on her toes. Finally, after starting to wonder whether she was even going the right way at all and looking behind her, she saw a familiar arm wave at her. She instantly turned around, heading the other way.

Her foot landed on something hard, making her stumble and bump into someone, all after only taking one step.

"Sorry!" a nasal voice yelped.

She was too stunned to reply as hot chocolate spilt over her chest, dripping down and soaking her coat, the heat making her instinctively jump backwards. "Fuck!"

"Oh Gods, I'm so sorry!"

She looked up - no, down - at the culprit. A skinny boy, about her age. His green - _really _green, Holy Thor - eyes were blown wide with shock and he was fidgeting with his hands, seemingly unsure of whether he should put them to use or whether that would bring about the impending apocalyptic events of 2012 two years too early. It was endearing, and while she normally would have had to suppress the urge to punch her assailant straight in the jaw, she found she simply couldn't. Because there was something in his look, so innocent, so sincere, that simply calmed her down.

"It's okay," she told him, looking down at the brown stain on her coat. Luckily, it didn't feel like it had reached her sweater underneath.

"No, it's totally my fault, I should have looked, I -" he mumbled, looking helpless as he rubbed the back of his head, messing up his auburn hair. "I was distracted, and I'm just so, so stupid, I don't know how -"

"It's okay, really," she repeated, slightly patting herself. "It's a way to stay warm, I suppose."

"It's not, I completely ruined your coat." He reached out towards her, but then retracted his hands, gesturing himself up and down. "Do you want mine, or?"

"No, it's fine, _really_," she insisted, following his gaze downward and finally realising what had made her trip. "I stepped on your foot, after all."

The guy looked down again, his two eyebrows shooting up. "You did?"

"I mean it was strangely hard, but..." she mumbled.

"Oh..." he grinned awkwardly. "That must be me." He leaned forward and grabbed his left foot, lifting it up and pulling up his pant leg... To reveal a piece of metal.

His lips curled into a lopsided smile. "Fake foot."

"Oh my Thor," she gasped. "How...?" She didn't know why she was asking - he was a complete stranger. But a part of her wanted to_ know_.

"Accident," he shrugged. "Happened this year, so I'm still getting used to it. Or I suppose it's last year now, since it's after midnight. Hurray!"

She wanted to laugh, to shake her head at him, felt the corners of her lips twitching upwards, but realised in time that it would be hugely inappropriate.

"I'm so sorry," was all she could come up with instead.

"Eh," he casually said, his shoulders moving more than any normal person's ever would. "It happens. And I thought I was the one doing the apologising here."

"My jacket's not expensive, don't worry," she reassured him. She preferred practicality above anything else and this coat was exactly that. "I'm sure it'll come right out. And I'm not nearly insecure enough to let it ruin my night." She gave him a cocky smile. "I'll punch anyone who dares to try."

"So I simply got lucky?" the guy tried.

"So far, yes," she teased.

The guy pretended to gulp and look panicked before his expression relaxed into a smile. "At least let me pay for the dry cleaner." He fumbled with his own jacket, seemingly looking for something. "If I can find my wallet, that is."

"It's fine, my mom probably knows how to wash it out herself," she tried again, but he kept patting himself down. "You didn't get robbed, right?"

"Oh, no, the odds of that are rather low. My dad's a cop," he explained, laughing awkwardly. "He makes sure I'm one hundred percent pickpocket-proof before even thinking of leaving the house. Which has _this_ -" He gestured at himself. "As the very charming result."

"Then perhaps you should leave it that way," she suggested.

"Yeah, that's probably..." He mulled for a moment, biting his lip and reaching into the back pocket of his jeans but coming up with nothing. "Yeah - I think you're right. Sorry, again."

"Let it go," she told him, finding herself smiling again. She gestured with the two mugs in her hand. "It's just hot chocolate."

"Is there even anything left?"

She peered into the mugs and shrugged. "Enough for one, at least."

"Then let me pay for new ones."

She pulled up an eyebrow. "And watch you go through your whole wallet-searching routine again? Charming offer, but no, thank you." He looked slightly offended, to which she decided to press the other mug into his hands. "Here, take it."

He took it from her only because she forced him to, sputtering. "I can't -"

"I'll just give this one to my friend." She gestured at the brown stain on her clothes. "I think I've had enough for tonight."

"Again, I'm sorry -"

"_Again_, it's okay."

"Are you really sure?" the guy tried again, looking pensive.

"I am," she nodded. "Sounds like you had a shitty 2009, with your leg and all. A shitty decade, for all I know. I just want to make sure this one starts out better."

He looked like he wanted to speak up again, but she held up her hand. "I'm not letting you give it back!"

She backed away after properly looking over her shoulder this time. "Enjoy your night!"

He just stood there, flabbergasted. "You too..."

With that, she disappeared back into the crowd, finally making her way back to Heather, a smile on her face she hadn't even realised was there until her best friend asked what had made her so cheery.

But she waved it off.

It was something she didn't really think she could explain.

* * *

**December 31st, 2010**

Hiccup was oddly reminded of a donkey on this year's New Year's Eve. Most importantly, the saying that even donkeys didn't hit their toe on the same stone twice in a row. Yet somehow, he had managed to let Snotlout convince him to go with him to the inner city of Berk again.

He didn't really know what kind of animal that made him, but he figured it didn't speak in his favour. Perhaps something without a brain. A jellyfish, maybe, just waiting to be inevitably washed up on a beach, then stepped on by a tourist, which would prompt the tourist's friends to pee on their leg. After a heated debate on whether urine did or did not actually help against jellyfish stings, a question no one really knew the answer too.

Or he could, for once, make life easy for the rest of the world and simply settle for being a sea cucumber. Those seemed rather cool. And he could, in Hiccup fashion, enlighten other sea creatures on how he was, in fact, not a green-tinted, edible vegetable, unlike his land-born brethren.

But his father worked on New Year's Eve anyways and he didn't really have anything better to do. So instead of chilling on the ocean floor, he was semi-freezing and sensing his impending demise as he stepped onto the white, slippery field of doom that was known as Berk's Winter Wonderland ice skating rink.

He didn't get what people thought was so fun about literally venturing onto thin ice. He never had. And that hadn't really changed now that he had only one properly functioning foot.

It would be fine, Snotlout had said. He had had the prosthetic for over a year by now, and, as his cousin put it so delicately, 'he already tripped over his own feet way less often than when he still had two of them'. So certainly, he could do this.

Hiccup had told Snot, Fishlegs and the twins to go ahead so he wouldn't embarrass himself too heavily. Fishlegs hovered nevertheless, but did bring up the courtesy to look away.

He carefully put his good foot on the ice, only slipping slightly, and held himself up on the wooden banister. Slowly, he let his second skate join the first, putting the iron down and trying to adjust to the weird sensation of his prosthetic sliding underneath him. But he didn't fall. That was something.

"Are you okay, Hiccup?" he heard Fishlegs ask.

He didn't dare to look up, keeping his eyes firmly fixated on his skates. "Okay would be a big word... But it could be worse."

"Just take it slow," Fishlegs told him, almost sounding more nervous than Hiccup himself felt.

Only for Fish's tender words to be immediately diminished by Snotlout skating by at high speed. "Come on, cuz, move!"

Hiccup shook his head and scowled, but forced himself to move anyways, pushing his right skate off the ice and letting the other glide along, while still holding on to the banister as if it was the only thing between him and utter humiliation.

It probably was. He could already hear _Non Je Ne Regrette Rien _play in the back of his head, announcing the inevitable fall of this story's tragic but not quite Leonardo DiCaprio-like protagonist the way it had in _Inception_.

He bet Leo knew how to ice-skate. Not that that would have helped him in _Titanic, _like a bigger floating door would have. But then again, Leo could do it all with two legs. And stuntmen.

Fuck, he'd love to have a stuntman right now.

And he wouldn't say no to having sex in a car with 1997 Kate Winslet either.

He slowly shuffled forward, letting his left skate slide calmly while his right did all the work. Surprisingly, it didn't go as badly as he'd expected it to. He dared to go further, letting go of the banister, daring to put some pressure on his left leg and start the motion from there.

The Gods struck him down for his hubris as soon as he tried, leaving him scrambling for his wooden saviour as he nearly fell face first onto the ice.

He pulled himself back up, leaning on the banister and looking out, pretending not to hear Fishlegs call out to him in concern. It was already dark, Berk's square lit by Christmas lights along with all the stalls and shops that feasted on holiday tourists. It was busy, this day belonging to the Berkians themselves above all, but he didn't pick out any familiar faces in the crowd.

Until he saw her.

He had mostly repressed the memory of the first person he'd met in the new decade, given that he'd immediately embarrassed himself by causing her to spill hot chocolate all over her coat. Just some Hiccup Haddock smoothness, right there.

But there she was, in the crowd. Her blond hair braided over her shoulder, a smile on her face as she talked to her friends. She was wearing a different jacket this year, a dark blue one that somehow suited her even better. He hoped that hadn't been his fault, that he hadn't completely ruined the red coat she'd worn the year before. But he was too self-conscious to go up to her and ask. Especially because moving at all on the death traps bound to his fake and real foot could only lead to disaster.

She probably didn't want to talk to him anyways. From the way she looked, the way she acted, the way she smiled he could make out that he was way below her on the notorious teen social ladder. She was undoubtedly popular. He was all too happy in his nerd corner. It'd never work.

Not that he believed in the strict segregation the way _High School Musical _portrayed it, but some people simply didn't match. It was better to, as the Wildcats put it so pointedly, 'stick to the status quo'.

And then her eyes met his.

She looked surprised to see him - Berk was at least a middle-sized town, after all, what were the odds? They hadn't seen each other since his clumsiness had miraculously resulted into a free mug of hot chocolate.

But once she seemed to have recovered from that shock - he hadn't, he was gaping, desperately willing his brain to update to Windows 7 instead of clinging to Vista and claiming that particular piece of garbage wasn't Microsoft's biggest mistake of the last decade - her lips relaxed into a soft smile that made his heart jump.

He glanced down at his skates, hoping she'd understand why he looked even more helpless than the last and only time they'd met. He hauled himself up further, trying to stand up straight - his growth spurt was _finally _setting in - and retain some of his dignity.

Her smile widened, like she'd understood, and she gave him two genuine thumbs up before turning back to her friends and disappearing into the crowd.

She'd gone as soon as she'd came. But he found himself grinning nevertheless, feeling more encouraged than he had all evening.

Perhaps ice skating wasn't that bad after all.

* * *

**January 1st, 2012**

This was the year. Or so Astrid had been told. Supposedly "the most amazing New Year's yet!".

She didn't think holding Heather's hair back as she threw up quite qualified as that, but at least her best friend had seemed to be having a good time. Right up until the moment she'd turned green and had rushed to the club's bathroom with Astrid running after her.

Astrid hadn't seen the appeal of turning eighteen and being allowed to drink herself. She had enough going on, tournaments to attend in January, a brain to spare for the university she was trying to get into. But she was nothing if not supportive, and she loved her friends more than herself. At least, that was the mantra she silently repeated in her head as Heather hurled into the toilet yet again.

She got her phone from her pocket, sliding the screen up to reveal the keyboard - it was simply quicker and way more convenient than typing on a touchscreen - and searched for Dagur's number. He would undoubtedly go berserk in his own way - he'd given them the 'big brother talk' before they'd headed into the city - but she'd rather deal with him than with Heather's parents. Especially Mr. Oswaldsson wouldn't be too... agreeable.

"Hello!?" Dagur shouted from the other side of the line, hardly audible above the beat of _Party Rock Anthem_ in the background.

"Hey, Dagur, it's me!" she yelled back before realising there was no need to, cringing when her voice echoed through the stalls. Heather simply groaned.

"'Sup, Hofferson?"

"I need to get Heather home," she told him. "We got here by bike, but that could take ages, so I figured that, perhaps, you could take her on your scooter..."

"She's wasted, isn't she?" Dagur's obvious disappointment was ironically punctuated by LMFAO insisting that party rock was in the house tonight, and that everybody should just have a good time.

Heather shook her head at her, part of her black braid unceremoniously sticking to her face, but Astrid didn't think her capable of making any decisions right now. "Yep."

"On my way. Where are you?"

"Not So Silent Sven's Party Hut."

Dagur hung up immediately, leaving Astrid to haul Heather up onto her shoulder while her friend insisted she was fine and could walk by herself, only to immediately demonstrate the opposite. They struggled until they reached the door, somehow managing to get their coats before escaping onto the streets, the Berkian winter air pleasant after the suffocating heat of the club.

They hung outside for a bit, waiting for Heather to sober up, but eventually stumbled further towards the main road, hoping to catch Dagur on his way. They had to dodge a lot of party goers who could hold their liquor better, along with teens who had fallen into the same pitfall Heather had. She felt a particular amount of sympathy for the dark-haired guy they passed, who was patting his skinny brunette friend on his back while he hurled the contents of his stomach into the snow, the sound alone enough to make Heather gulp again.

When they passed them, the sick fellow looked up at her, their eyes meeting.

Astrid had only seen that combination of awkwardness and _Oh my Thor what am I doing_ twice before.

She waved at Fake Foot Guy, shooting him the kindest smile she could muster up without bursting into giggles.

* * *

**January 1st, 2013**

2012 had been a good year for Hiccup. Somehow, he hadn't brought about the end of the world the Mayas had prophesied would come to pass. Even though he, the twins, Snotlout _and _Fishlegs had been convinced that if anyone would be able to cause an accident of global scale, it was Hiccup. Yet he had managed to enter university, where, as his father put it, his destructive tendencies were finally channelled into a proper education to become an engineer.

Living away from home wasn't abysmal either. If he was being honest, the train connection from Berk to university wasn't so bad that he had necessarily had to move out, but he figured it'd be good for him. It had certainly taught him a lot of things. How to open a can of pineapple slices without a can opener. How to separate white and coloured laundry. How to avoid salmonella. How to handle suddenly being six feet tall. How to cover up shaving cuts. And how to say no to more alcohol than he could handle.

It was the reason he wasn't in the same condition he was last year and that it felt good to be back in Berk to celebrate New Year's. Because he knew he wouldn't embarrass himself. Or at least, not by vomiting into the snow.

Of course Hot Chocolate Girl had walked by on his lowest point of the night.

Part of him wondered if she was perhaps some kind of spirit, there to feed on his awkwardness and the chaos he left in his wake. Then again, he'd only seen her three times, and his disaster-track record was much better than that. Three was a rookie number.

By the time it was 2 AM and Tuffnut dragged them into a club that he swore was even more awesome than the previous one, Hiccup had started to believe he might not see her on New Year's Eve for the first time this decade. He didn't know why he wanted to see her - he had no idea who she was, after all, didn't even have a clue about her name. But he remembered her smile, her bright blue eyes, the way her blond hair framed her face perfectly...

The exact same features as those of the girl he suddenly spotted on the dance floor, grinding up against a tall, handsome dark-haired stranger he didn't recognise. She was wearing a dress that remained blue in the club's lighting and fit her figure beautifully. It was the first time he properly saw her without a coat on, and he was struck by just how gorgeous she was. He'd had an idea, but it clearly hadn't been completely accurate.

She might be the most stunning woman he'd ever seen. Even in her current state, her hair messed up, her eyes glazed over, muddled by alcohol as they miraculously met his. He didn't know if she recognised him. She didn't seem to. But he couldn't look away.

Not even when she turned around to the stranger behind her, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him down into a kiss, the two of them making out as if no one was watching them. And he probably shouldn't be. He wanted to simply think 'good for her', to be happy that she was having a good time. But instead, he found his heart stinging with something unfamiliar. A kind of hurt he couldn't quite place.

He didn't mind when Ruffnut hooked her arm into his and pulled him back outside, remarking that Tuffnut had horrible taste and that they were going somewhere else. And even though he didn't do anything particularly stupid the rest of the night, he couldn't help but feel like somewhere, deep down, he was a bit of a fool.

He just couldn't pinpoint why.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! I hope the second one will come soon. I plan for there to be 3, all the way up until we reach New Year's Eve 2019...**

**Find me on Tumblr as aleteia-ff! **


	2. New Year's Eve 2013-2015

**A/N: Thank you all for your lovely comments on the previous chapter! I hope you enjoy this one too! **

* * *

**Chapter 2: New Year's Eve 2013-2015**

**December 31st, 2013**

Being an university student who lived away from home left Astrid in this awkward spot between not quite being a foreigner but also not really knowing where every single new thing was in Berk. Of course, she was also too proud to admit that. So when Heather, who still lived with her parents, had told Astrid to meet her at this hot new bar, Astrid had assumed she would be able to find it without any problems. And that she didn't have to buy more data for her mobile plan in case she got lost.

She had been wrong.

She was walking through the inner city of Berk, a few blocks away from the Winter Wonderland market, through the streets she knew bars _used _to be in, but of course, this particular one wasn't. She supposed she could old-fashionably call Heather, but she didn't _want _to. She could do this. Berk was her home, it shouldn't be difficult, and she couldn't admit to herself that she didn't know everything. Not again.

She'd already been doing enough of that the past weeks.

The exams she'd had before the Christmas holidays had _not _gone well. The first year of her studies in Medicine had flown by, and had covered a lot of material she'd already excessively studied for her entrance exams. It had given her the opportunity to join sports clubs, student associations, and spend a lot of time with all the amazing people she'd met. More often drunk than sober. Parties were simply more fun that way, and after a bit of trial and error, she'd gotten a good idea of her tolerance. Although last year's New Year's Eve was arguably still one big blur.

This year was different, however. They'd started with a lot of new material, the pressure amped up significantly, and while some of her classmates were able to sit in the library from nine to five every day, she just couldn't. And she didn't know why. There was no need to cut down on any of her weekly club and sorority meetings - she had time to study during the day. But in those hours she set aside for her studies, something was missing, a certain drive that others did have. And which she didn't.

She wasn't used to not being able to get what she wanted.

Perhaps she simply needed some time to charge up, to get back in the zone. Refocus, just like preparing herself for another kick-boxing round. She was looking forward to spending New Year's Eve with Heather and other friends from high school. To them she was still Astrid Hofferson, who was always on top of things, who was fun to hang out with and who, most importantly, never screwed anything up.

Luckily lots of people at university still thought her to be fun. And they didn't pry beyond that.

She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her favourite 'it doesn't need to be fashionable, just warm' dark blue winter coat, blowing hot air into her pulled-up scarf and warming her nose. Thank the Gods she'd gone to study in the south. She didn't miss the Berkian cold one bit.

Still not having spotted _Drago__'s Dragon Den_, she turned right into the next street, hoping to get luckier there. She let her gaze wander over the terrace at the corner, looking for her best friend, but came up with nothing. She bit her lip and decided to check once more, just to be sure.

And fell right into a pair of bright green eyes.

But they weren't Heather's.

She didn't know why she hadn't recognised him on her first survey, because now that she saw him, she could hardly look at anything, or anyone, else. She'd thought that, after him not showing up last year, the sight of him vomiting into the snow would be the last she ever saw of him. But there he was, looking back at her. Fake Foot Guy.

Fake Foot Man, now.

She was pretty sure that if he stood up from his chair, she'd no longer have to look down at him. He had become impossible taller, his shoulders broader, no traces of puberty awkwardness remaining. His round face had been reshaped into a square jaw, covered in slight stubble, making him look so handsome her legs turned to jelly. He no longer matched the image she had of him in her head, of the awkward yet slightly adorable teenage boy. Yet those green eyes were still there, his auburn hair even more messed up than before…

And only then did she realise that she _had _seen him last year. A hazy memory, a gaze across the dance floor that she thought had been a distorted image of the guy she'd made out with. But the shots of tequila had lied to her. Because she would have remembered kissing someone who'd Neville Longbottomed as hard as Fake Foot Guy had.

And for a moment, she deeply regretted that he hadn't been the one she'd kissed. And that she didn't even know his name.

Until her phone rang in her back pocket and Heather snapped her out of it. She didn't know how long she'd been gaping - which wasn't like her, how the Hel did he make her do that? - but judging by the lopsided smile he gave her when she waved sheepishly, he didn't mind.

And when she walked off, following Heather's instructions on where to go, she found that the only thing she herself minded, was that she hadn't stayed around longer.

* * *

**December 31st, 2014**

Hiccup didn't know what he was doing here. He didn't know why he was out of his house - his house, _his_, only his. Why he hadn't stayed home, watched his blu-ray copy of _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_, and gone to bed on time. Even his dad had loved the movie, after being reluctant to go to 'just another superhero film' at first. But he hadn't wanted to ruin 'Men's Night Out' with Snotlout and Uncle Spite, and had ended up happily surprised.

If Hiccup was perfectly honest with himself however, he knew he would just end up crying and not fall asleep for a long time if he'd gone through with that plan. So he might as well be an insomniac anywhere else.

He made himself more comfortable in the booth, peeling at the label of the empty beer bottle on the table in front of him. He was glad Snot and Fishlegs were getting to get another round. Because he could use some more beer, and he could no longer handle the way they looked at him with overwhelming _pity_.

He hoped the twins would get here soon. At least they would act normally. Or at least, according to what was normal for them.

He didn't need people to feel sorry for him all the time. He could handle himself. He'd done the responsible, adult things. He had called off his semester abroad, had put his studies on hold entirely, and had moved back to Berk to take care of everything that had needed taking care of. Which was way more than he could have imagined.

It was already enough that Uncle Spite and Gobber came over to help him on Saturday nights. Instead of to drink beer like they were supposed to.

That they hadn't had a proper Men's Night in half a year.

That he'd made tea for and had politely nodded at the stories of more cops than he could count. Let alone whose names he could remember.

Given that he had to enjoy all that, he really wasn't looking for more reminders of the fact that he was now officially an orphan. And that he would never, ever see his father again.

Living with that knowledge every day was already painful enough.

He wondered if it would ever end. If he could ever stop looking at the occasional man or woman in blue walking by, making sure everyone was safe on New Year's Eve. If he would at one point stop asking himself how much longer those police officers had to live, because his father should have been on duty too tonight, like every other year. Every normal year.

Stoick Haddock shouldn't have been fatally stabbed while saving an innocent woman from a regular, everyday mugger. And Hiccup shouldn't have gotten that one call that had turned his entire life upside down.

He'd never known his mother. She was someone he could mourn, based on her pictures, but couldn't really _miss_. Not like this. His heart torn out, leaving this huge, gaping hole which refused to be patched up. Making him wish that he had never moved out, that he had stayed in the home that he had now inherited, mortgage paid off, to simply live in it with his father for a while longer. Sure, they'd always had their differences, their disagreements, their fights…

But even though he'd now had several months to figure it out, he still didn't have any idea how to live his life without his father in it.

People told him it got better. He couldn't imagine that it would.

He looked up from his beer when he had successfully undressed it, the slightly damp label mocking him by reminding him there was only 5% alcohol in it. That wasn't enough to make him forget. Perhaps he should have asked the guys for something stronger. But with how legitimately, uncannily concerned Snot had been the past few months, he knew he was more likely to upset them, and put his own misery in the spotlight.

He didn't want to do either of those things. So he slightly turned his heavy head, burying his hand in his hair, his elbow on the table, and gazed out of the window.

At the exact same moment Hot Chocolate Girl sneaked a glance inside.

She looked better than he did. Which wasn't difficult. She always did. But today, the difference was even more glaring than normal. More so than last year, when she'd looked surprised to see him, suddenly more uncomfortable than he'd ever seen her before. Like somehow, she'd forgotten to put up her defences, the walls he hadn't realised were there until that moment crumbling.

He had considered walking up to her then, before she'd gotten that phone call. He'd hoped to see her in the days that followed, to get the opportunity to try again. Because part of him had thought that it couldn't be a coincidence that their eyes had met for what was now, as of this exact moment, the sixth year in a row. That perhaps, fate was on his side, that her kissing that other guy in the club two years ago wasn't something he should still be bothered by. And although he'd slowly forgotten about her again when spring came around, somewhere deep down, his wish to see her had remained.

But now that he had the chance to get up and talk to her, her pace faltering as she looked back at him, he found he couldn't. After all, if 2014 had shown him anything, it was that the Gods, if they even existed at all, didn't favour him in the slightest.

So he shook his head at her, his heart stinging with grief, but he forced his lips to curl up regardless. Even though he knew his smile wouldn't reach his eyes, not today, he felt the need to apologise to her. For being himself. And for all the baggage he carried with him.

Despite his rejection - cowardice? depression? complete and utter defeat? - she smiled back at him. Thoroughly, genuinely, lighting up her face and the otherwise dull, grey world along with it, her hair shining golden in the light that came from her alone, the street around her non-existent. And somehow, that smile managed to pull on the heartstrings he thought he'd buried with his father. To fire up a heat in his chest he hadn't felt for months.

Her image stayed with him after she walked way, the world seeming just a little brighter. More hopeful.

And for a moment, he allowed himself to think that perhaps, maybe, life would get better again after all.

* * *

**January 1st, 2016**

Astrid needed another cocktail. And then two. Have 'uptown funk give it to you', whatever Bruno Mars might mean by that. It didn't sound so bad right now.

Somehow, she had ended up alone this New Year's Eve. She had decided to hit town anyways, because she was twenty-two and by now excelled at making bad life decisions. Because Heather and her other high school friends were on holiday this year, and she hadn't been able to join them.

Since she'd spent all her money on parties and expensive tuition fees.

To get a degree in something she no longer liked, the thought of spending even another week in the library learning medical mumbojumbo by heart instead of doing anything - _anything_ \- remotely practical killing her. Let alone the years she still had to go to become an actual doctor. If she could even get there with the grades she'd achieved so far.

She would have to drop out. She knew it. University had finally decided she was failing too many courses, and just before Christmas, she'd blown her last chances to make up for it. As it turned out, going to the gym, along with drinking and partying even more, because those were the only things she still enjoyed, didn't exactly help in passing exams.

She had to tell her parents. Inform them that all their support had been for nothing, that their formerly high-achieving daughter, who had never struggled in high school, had completely blown it. That she would have to move back in with them, and that she didn't have a plan for what was next.

She'd always wanted to help people, which was why she'd wanted to become a doctor in the first place. But apparently that desire didn't beat her inherent need to completely ruin herself.

Diagnosis: helpless and clueless.

Tonight, she simply longed to forget about that. To start 2016 out right. And the longer she spent away from home, the better. So she could postpone telling her parents the truth for a while longer.

She was on the hunt, looking for a guy, or girl - that was perhaps the only useful thing she'd learnt about herself these past few years, that she didn't mind female attention either - to go home with. Someone who would show her a good time while she was just sober enough to consent but too far gone to regret. And who wouldn't question it when they woke up to an empty bed.

Walks of shame were good early-morning exercise, after all.

_Gruffnut__'s Grunge Grotto_ was a good place to start. A more obscure venue, somewhere between a club and a bar, reliving the glory days of Nirvana and co two and a half decades after the fact by letting a live band disfigure modern-day songs, like Mr. Mars', into glorious 90's grunge. She'd personally been more of a Spice Girls fan as a kid - she'd always been very good at telling people what she really, _really _wanted - but this was a nice way to spice up her life regardless. Or her night, at least. It was refreshing to be somewhere where she could wear her ripped jeans and didn't have to care about her mascara smearing, because she could actually pass that off as fashionable.

She accepted her next drink from the bartender, downing the shot in one go. She fixed her hair into a lose half-up bun and turned around, intending to seize up the band. Bands usually knew how to have fun, no strings attached. Perhaps they had a handsome guitarist, or a drummer…

But then she saw someone in the corner of her eye.

_Him_.

Fake Foot Guy was sitting on a stool at the other side of the bar, leisurely leaning back against the timber. She still remembered the way he'd looked last year, the bags underneath his eyes, the clear exhaustion in his gaze when he'd looked at her. The way he hadn't _really_ smiled. How she had wanted to rush inside and hug him, because somehow, she'd felt like he'd needed it. But he'd shaken his head at her, chipping off a piece of her heart with that simple motion.

She hadn't really understood why. She'd spent more days than reasonable - more days than made _sense_ considering she didn't even know his name, that they weren't anything at all - trying to figure out why he, out of all men on Earth, had rejected her.

He seemed to be doing much better now. He fit right in with his black leather jacket, the heel of his good foot tapping on the ground, along to the band's rhythm, because his legs were actually long enough to reach all the way down. He was simply wearing jeans, nothing special, nothing she had never seen before, but she found them incredibly sexy nevertheless… And found herself wondering how it would feel to wrap her thighs around his, to bury her hands in his gorgeous, thick auburn locks, to kiss him senseless while he pushed her against his bedroom door…

She wanted someone to make her feel good.

_Why not him?_

She entertained that idea for a moment, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks and biting down on her lower lip. She only had to walk up to him. Somehow, she knew they didn't need to talk, that if she simply wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, their lips meeting, that everything would be alright.

It _felt _right.

But when he turned his head, looking away from the band, and saw her too, his eyes opening up in surprise, those green eyes that immediately drew her in, she suddenly understood. She no longer wondered why he hadn't wanted to come over the year before.

As much as she felt that this was right, that _he _was right, she couldn't ignore the other voice in the back of her head.

_Not now_.

She could use anyone to ease her sorrows. But not him.

He was simply too special.

So before she could make another bad decision, she ran, leaving him to stare at her back as she rushed outside, longing to get to the bicycle that would take her back home.

She knew she would regret leaving tomorrow, knowing that she hadn't seized the opportunity that only seemed to offer itself one night a year. But it was simply part of the mess she had to clean up.

So that hopefully, she would be ready next year.

* * *

**A/N: Definitely darker years for this fic's Hiccstrid... They didn't talk to each other in these years... Will next year be different? **


	3. New Year's Eve 2016

**A/N: Thank you everyone for the support! Unfortunately, school started again, so this update came in a bit later, but I'm definitely finishing this story! My current expectation is that it will end at 5 chapters, perhaps 4. This one turned out a lot longer than I'd anticipated, hence me coming back from my earlier estimate of 3 chapters!**

**I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 3: New Year's Eve 2016**

**December 31st, 2016**

Life came with a lot of difficult choices. Hiccup knew that all too well. Batman, Superman, or simply admitting that the DCEU, especially after Suicide Squad, didn't quite hold a candle to the MCU? It was a shame, really. He'd always loved Batman, had reread many of his old comics since 2014, even saw the humour in George Clooney's Batnipples. But perhaps _Justice League_ would prove everyone wrong in 2017. _Hopefully_.

At least it hadn't been difficult to choose between Team Cap and Team Iron Man. As much as he adored Spider-Man, his father's opinion was simply more important. And Steve Rogers was their guy.

He felt silly to be spending energy on those dilemmas, but after all the shit he'd been through, it was a breath of fresh air to be worried about stuff that was simple. To have his life on the rails, to no longer be forced to sort through his father's will and figure out how to handle all the insurance and ownership documents. He'd even felt comfortable enough to go and study abroad, having spent the best part of the last half year in Melbourne while Gobber, Snotlout and Uncle Spite took care of what was now his house.

Uncle Spite had told him that it was fine if Hiccup wanted to sell it, that he would find a trustworthy real estate agent who got him his money's worth. It would allow Hiccup to buy an apartment in Hopeless, closer to university, and leave Berk and all the painful memories there behind.

He'd seriously considered the change of scenery, because of course it was difficult to forget what had happened when so many people around him _knew_. Not just the small family that remained. But also Mrs. Ack from down the street, who kept bringing him leftovers, because his thin frame had led her to assume he wasn't feeding himself properly. The Bog family, who lived a few houses away and whose eldest daughter, Camicazi, frequently stole his garbage bags long and put them at the side of the street for the truck to pick up. Everyone knew what had happened to him, and wanted to do their utmost best to support him. He didn't need it, and had told them to stop several times, painfully elated and awkward, rubbing the back of his head so hard he was surprised he hadn't gone bald yet. But Berkians were stubborn, and persisted nevertheless.

And the more time he'd spent in Australia, the more he'd started to miss Berk. He didn't know what it was about the town that had been his family's home for seven generations. But the moment he'd set foot in it again after returning from the other side of the world, it had simply felt like home. And for now, he had no intention to leave.

He didn't know what it was, exactly. Tuffnut and Ruffnut weren't around much, their band now touring the country and only returning as a service to Gruffnut, who had given them the necessary spotlight by booking them last New Year's Eve - although the way the twins told the story, it was Gruffnut who owed _them_, not the other way around. Fishlegs was studying at the Hopeless Institute of Technology - the name of which was a _HIT _with students in exam weeks - like him, so Berk wasn't where they saw each other most. Hiccup had grown closer to Snotlout however, some of his cousin's obnoxiousness having faded after his father passed away. Or it was simply being channelled into the roles he played with Berk's local musical theatre company.

Still, Hiccup felt something was keeping him in Berk. He didn't mind it, not in the slightest, it felt good, like he'd finally found a fragment of inner peace. But he didn't know what it was exactly.

And he didn't have time to think about it, since a voice snapped him out of his tragically derailed train of thought.

"What's on the menu?"

He had only heard it one time before, seven years ago. Yet he recognised it immediately.

He turned his head, looking right into the beautiful blue eyes of the woman next to him. He had to look down at her now, unlike on the first day of 2010, but felt incredibly tiny nevertheless. He'd thought he'd blown it when she'd fled from him last year, having rejected her himself the year before that one. But here she was, smiling at him with a teasing smirk on her face and making the ground underneath his feet disappear, sending him into a free fall.

"Hey - uh - _hey -_" He laughed sheepishly when he finally remembered how to form words, rubbing the back of his head, and her grin only widened. "Hi," he concluded more sternly, as if it would miraculously make up for his earlier stammering.

She bit her lower lip, laughing still and making his insides contract because he'd thought she couldn't look cuter, a dark blue beanie pulled over her ears, but of course she kept surprising him. "Hey."

For all the times he'd imagined spending time with her, he now realised he'd put embarrassingly little effort into what exactly he would say to her when the stars finally aligned.

There were a million thing he _could _say, but now that he had the chance, he couldn't come up with anything. His eyes flicked back to the wooden stall in front of him, to the choice he'd been trying to make, and he finally realised that she had already asked him a question he still had to answer.

"All of _this _is on the menu," he told her, widely gesturing at the space in front of him, a holiday market stall selling all kinds of New Year's treats and drinks from around the world. "I don't even know half of it, but I figured I should try _something_."

"How about you let me pick?" she proposed. "And I'll pay for it too, in case it's horrible."

"Only if you have it with me," he smiled, her smirk contagious. "And let me buy you a drink in return."

"Deal," she nodded, instantly stepping forward to examine the shop's showcase, her brows furrowing as she focused. Occasionally, she made an adorable sound when she not-so-silently judged the different kinds of food, and Hiccup found himself staring at her, cherishing the moment.

Because she hadn't disappeared yet.

He quickly pretended to be studying the sign that listed the available drinks when she glanced over her shoulder, shooting him another smile.

"Glühwein?" he asked, his voice shooting up as if he'd gone straight back to puberty.

"Nah." She shook her head, looking away from a moment. "I don't drink." She paused before adding: "Not anymore."

"I can respect that," he nodded, thinking back to the times he'd seen her considerably less sober. Despite only catching a glimpse of her, he was sure just last year had been one of those. And he couldn't deny that while he respected anyone enough to let them make their own decisions, she hadn't looked as well as she'd done the years before. As if there had been a little less light in her otherwise bright eyes.

She pulled up an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, gesturing at his head. "Hangovers suck. Kills your brain too. And booze doesn't even always taste as good as people pretend it does."

"I'm glad you agree," she hummed.

"You make it sound like I'm special."

She took him in for a moment, as if she was seizing him up. "I guess you are. Most of my friends at university disagreed."

"Seems like you need better friends."

"Which is why I'm here." Her lips settled back into a smile. "And I think you still owe me a mug of hot chocolate."

He couldn't help but grin. "Sounds like a plan."

He ordered two mugs of hot chocolate with whipped cream on top while Hot Chocolate Girl - her _name_, he had to ask for her _name_ \- picked out a snack she liked. They walked away from the stall with what she laughingly informed him were called 'Dutch doughnuts' - huge balls of deep fried dough with raisins in them, covered in about a pound of powdered sugar.

He asked her if she wanted to sit down.

"Of course," was her simple answer.

They zigzagged through the crowd, her leading so he wouldn't lose sight of her - not again - until they reached one of the market's squares. He thanked the Gods Luktuk had gotten spiteful and had organised its own winter market this year. Meaning it was a lot less busy and that there were actually some free spots. He had already started to dread the prospect of having to go and sit back with Snotlout. Not that Snot wasn't good company, but from the corner of his eye he could easily see his cousin, already sufficiently drunk, draw Barney Stinson's hot-crazy scale in the air, challenging Fishlegs and the twins to determine where Hot Chocolate Girl would land.

So much for Snotlout losing some of his obnoxiousness.

They sat down across from each other at one of the wooden picnic tables, and for a moment, Hiccup felt himself caught in how unreal the situation felt. He had thought of this girl for years, imagined what she might be like, chased by the notion that seeing her every year on one specific day couldn't be a coincidence. And now he had the chance to confirm that suspicion.

He laughed at himself for his superstition. He had no idea if she even had the same ideas about him. But she chuckled, too, and their eyes met again.

"What's your name?" he asked, curling his fingers around his mug.

"Astrid. Astrid Hofferson." She - _Astrid - _slowly moved her spoon, mixing the cream into the hot chocolate. "You?"

He blinked, somewhere surprised that she didn't know it already. That he had forgotten that she knew as little about him as he did about her. "I'm -"

He was going to offer her the formal introduction he gave any stranger. But that didn't feel right.

"People call me Hiccup."

Astrid - such a pretty name - pulled up her eyebrow. "Hiccup?"

"It's a nickname," he shrugged. "People close to me have been calling me that for as long as I've known. I was quite small as a kid." He held out his hand next to the table, at the same height his hip would now be. "Dad called me a little Hiccup, and it stuck. First with my cousin, who was in the same class as me in elementary school… And you know how kids are."

"Assholes," she noted.

"Definitely."

She reached for her pocket, whisking out her phone. She bit her lower lip as she started to type. "Are you Hiccup on Facebook too?"

He gave her a sheepish grin. "No, I actually don't have Facebook. Nor Instagram. Or Snapchat."

"Whoa. What century did you come from?"

"I'm not much of a social media guy," he tried to explain. "Not a fan of Mark Zuckerberg getting his hands on all my data."

"Yeah, he is a bit of a creep," Astrid nodded. "Shame I can't go without Messenger."

"Call me old-fashioned, but I can give you my number instead," he proposed. "I do have WhatsApp."

She frowned. "Didn't Facebook buy WhatsApp like two years ago?"

"Just an introduction to how consistent my principles are," he quipped.

"At least you have some. I'm just a regular sell-out." She swiped around on her phone for a moment, before handing it to him. She had opened a new contact, the name already filled out.

"_Fake Foot Guy_?" he laughed.

"It's not much worse of a nickname than 'Hiccup'," she shot back.

_She__'d had a nickname for him too_. "Can't argue with that."

He typed his number into her phone and handed it back to her, feeling awfully giddy at how _easy _it was to talk to her. Astrid tucked it back into her jeans, and pointed at the curious snack in front of her. "After you."

"Whoa, Astrid," he objected, putting his hands up in the air. "_You _picked it out."

"Fine, I'll be the brave one," she joked, and lifted the doughnut, making a toast with it. "Bon appetit."

She took a bite, looking pensive as she chewed calmly before finally publishing her verdict. "It's not too bad, actually."

Encouraged, he began to eat as well, taking a big bite to show he wasn't a coward.

"You're right, not as bad as it looks."

"You doubted me?"

"Not even for a second."

She shook her head at him, working the rest of the doughnut down with impressive speed. She propped her head up on her hand as she waited for him to finish, playfully cocking her head and tapping her fingers on the table while grinning to herself.

"Hey, at least I'm taking the time to enjoy my food," he defended himself.

"Oh, that's now why I'm laughing," Astrid grinned. "You just have some sugar on your face."

"Where?"

Astrid gestured to her own face, drawing a circle in the air. "_Everywhere_."

_Way to make an impression, Haddock. _He hastily grabbed his napkin, but when he looked back up he found Astrid leaning over the table, tentatively reaching out to him with hers.

He sat there, frozen when she carefully wiped the tip of his nose as if it was the most obvious, the most natural thing to do. With her so close, he could count the few freckles on her cheeks, her entire presence kissed by the sun in a way people in Berk so rarely were. His eyes fell to her soft, pink lips, slightly chapped by the cold, and he considered hooking his finger underneath her chin and finding out if she still tasted like sugar too. But he figured she always did.

It felt like it was supposed to. It felt right. As if he'd never done otherwise. As if he was lucky enough to get to gaze into her beautiful blue eyes every single day.

While the truth was that he hardly even knew her.

"What do you do?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Huh?" Astrid blinked, then looked at her hand, her eyebrows shooting up as if she hadn't realised it belonged to her. "I'm sorry -"

"No, don't be," he told her as she backed away, already missing the closeness and sheepishly cleaning the remaining sugar off his face to occupy himself. "I just meant, what do you do on, you know, other days than New Year's Eve?"

"Oh." She sat down, wiped off her hands and tucked some of her hair back behind her ear. "Mostly volunteer work, these days. Trying to help people where I can."

"That's great!"

"Yeah, it's very satisfying." Her voice trailed off, making him raise an eyebrow.

"Sounds like there's a 'but'."

She smiled slightly. "It's not exactly long-term. I need to find an actual job eventually so I can move out and become an actual adult."

"Any ideas on that yet?"

She shook her head. "That's the issue. I went to uni to become a doctor so I could help people, but it wasn't for me. So this past year, I've been trying to figure out what I want to do instead."

"I don't see how that's an issue."

"Because it's not the way it's supposed to go!" Astrid exclaimed. "I always thought gap years were a waste of time, and now here I am, doing exactly what I vouched I never would."

"Life hardly ever goes how it's supposed to," he shrugged, taking a sip. "And it doesn't seem to me like you're not doing anything."

She cocked her head at him. "What makes you so sure?"

_Because I feel like I__'ve known you all my life_. "You don't seem like the kind of person to lie in bed watching Netflix all week."

"Of course not," she snorted.

"And you probably volunteer like ten, twenty hours a week…" he murmured, trying not to grin.

"Thirty. At least," she corrected him. "Fifty maybe, if there's a kickboxing tourney in town."

"Okay, public service announcement, _don__'t pick a fight with Astrid_," he quipped, painting the words in the air. "Although it's unlikely kicking your ass fits her schedule, because she works so godsdamned hard."

Astrid gave him a determined look. "I can always take time out of my day for special cases."

"Lucky me, people have been telling me I'm _very _special all my life," he mock-gaped. "What are the odds!"

"About the same as those of living in a town with one hundred thousand people, but nevertheless seeing the same person eight New Year's Eves in a row?"

He froze and looked at her, the way his blue eyes peered into his, searching for _something_. "You realised it too," he gaped, his voice suddenly a lot softer.

"Of course I did," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I may be a drop-out, but I'm not stupid."

"Didn't meant to imply you were, just…" he laughed at himself. "I thought I was the weird one."

"I don't think you're weird," Astrid reassured him. "Just a dork."

"Do you…" he started, his throat suddenly dry. "Do you think it's a coincidence?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out."

He was staring at her again, wondering if leaning across the table and kissing her would be an acceptable way of 'figuring it out'. If she would find it inappropriate, or if she would wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him back until their position inevitably became uncomfortable.

He could get up and walk to the other side of the table, sit down on the bench next to her and pull her into his lap, curl his arms around her and hold her until the clock hit midnight. So she wouldn't vanish, not this year. Ask her to come home with him, or meet him again tomorrow, because they had only barely talked and he already couldn't imagine never hearing her voice again. Because it had been enough to catch a hint of how she was brave, passionate, selfless, and smart. And he wanted to know everything else there was to learn about her.

He was snapped out of it by Astrid clearing her throat. "So what about you?"

He blinked profusely and sat back, not even realising he'd been leaning forward. "Huh?"

"What do you do?"

"Oh, I -" He took a deep breath, trying to push away the heat in his cheeks through sheer force of will. "I'm still studying. Trying to become an engineer."

"What kind?"

"For a long time, I wanted to do something with aviation," he elaborated, studying her face for a trace of boredom but finding her eyes opening up instead. "Like, my room is _full _of sketches of rockets, air planes, flight suits."

"Flight suits?"

"Yeah, you know, so people can fly themselves." He moved his arms, demonstrating the idea until she laughed and made him realise how stupid he made himself look. "It'd probably be a regulatory nightmare though, given that airports already aren't happy with people flying drones." He grinned. "So naturally, I got myself one for Christmas."

Astrid leaned forward, giving him a knowing look. "Does it fly yet?"

"No, but -" He continued, despite Astrid's chuckles. "That's only because I'm making some modifications."

"_Sure_," Astrid teased.

"It's true! Sticking to the basics takes all the fun out of it."

"Basic planes do sound a lot safer to me, you know," Astrid countered.

"Well, you're in luck, because that's what I was getting to," he explained. "I've loved planes all my life but recently, I've been giving a lot of thought to this thing. You know, what gave me my superhero name." He grinned, vaguely gesturing to his left foot. "The longer I live with it, the more ideas I get to improve it. So maybe I should do that instead." He shrugged. "Help people like me."

Astrid smiled softly. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

"Me too."

He could only smile back as a silence settled between them. It wasn't uncomfortable - on the contrary, he felt he could do this all day, simply look at her, the sounds of the busy market around them seemingly non-existent. Suppress the urge to reach out towards her, unwrap her delicate fingers from around her mug just so he could study them.

He felt like Tarzan - minus the dreadlocks, broad chest and any other kind of muscle definition - wanting to pull off just one of the gloves of his Jane. Not that she was _his_, of course, he barely knew her name, for years he had known nothing more than that her smile warmed his heart and that every moment they shared seemed to last forever. Besides, he was a 21st century man who didn't believe women to be his property in any way. In fact, he didn't mind a woman who looked like she could kick his ass instead.

But he cherished the thought of carefully taking her fingers in his, treat them delicately despite her obvious strength, and press their palms flat against each other. To get a sense of just how real she was, her warm skin against his, treat her as if she was the first woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Because in a weird way, it felt like it. Then again, everything about this was weird, but in a way that made his heart beat faster.

He could do it. Take her hand, wrap his fingers around it and simply hold them. He would settle for that, and not let her go for the rest of the night. Not even when the fireworks started. He wasn't concerned with those. He was just wondering if they would also go off in his head the moment he kissed her.

Or he could finally realise he was staring at her like a fool, way longer than any sane person would. He blinked profusely, and she cocked her head at him, clearly amused as she took another sip.

He cleared his throat, trying to come up with something smooth, or another topic, but he found himself speechless. "There's so much I want to ask you," he laughed, embarrassingly awkward. "But I can't think of anything."

"Really?" Astrid teased. "Nothing?"

_How old are you? Do you prefer dogs or cats? Sushi: overpriced raw fish or actually quite okay? How do you feel about Brangelina getting divorced? Who is your favourite character in Friends? Will you think less of me if I admit I exercised almost every day last Summer, but that ninety-nine percent of that was walking around town catching Pok__émon? What even is Brexit? _

_Do you feel like there__'s something here too? Do you like me, even a little bit? _

"I just don't know where to start," he shrugged.

"Perhaps you could Google it," she grinned, seemingly content with letting him drown.

"You know, there are actually lists for that," he pointed out, pulling another useless fact out of his repertoire. "Questions to ask on dates."

"Oh?"

He treasured the fact that she didn't ask whether this was a date. So he leapt again. "Yeah. Like a list of 36 questions that 'guarantee' two people will fall in love with each other."

She snorted. "Now that sounds like yak dung." He opened his mouth to agree, but she added: "So go ahead."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a confused goldfish, not having expected to get this far. "I don't know them by heart…"

"You don't do this often?"

He liked the twinkle in her eyes, the way she consistently teased and challenged him. No, he _loved _that.

"But there was this one question that stuck with me, regardless," he continued. "If you were able to live to the age of ninety, and retain either the mind or the body of a thirty year-old for the last sixty years of your life…. Which one would you want?"

Astrid answered nearly instantly. "Body."

_Well, if I had yours, that__'s what I'd pick too_.

"And that's not to sound vain," she elaborated before he could comment. "It's not about that at all, but the thought of becoming so old that I can no longer move around on my own, that I'd need help to get everywhere, or that I simply don't have the energy to do the things I love anymore… I'd hate that. I would lose my independence, my freedom. I don't know what it's like to be thirty yet, of course, but if I got to live the next sixty years feeling like I do right now, but with more and more experience as time goes by, I'd sign up for that." She grinned. "And of course, not getting any wrinkles, or _menopause, _is an upside too."

"Not sounding vain, right?" he quipped, earning him a punch in his shoulder.

"I gave you a serious answer!"

"I know, I know!" He put his hands up in the air. "But hey, don't blame yourself for being gorgeous."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Hiccup…"

He liked the way she said his name. He hoped she would do it again. "Look, if you can't take a compliment, that's not my fault."

"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "You're not bad yourself either."

He tried not to bask in that comment, in the knowledge that she might like him, even a little bit. He did his best to wipe his grin off his face and continue where they left off. "But I get what you mean, I suppose. People say that you need three things to live a happy life." He counted on his fingers. "Time, energy, and money. If you're young, you have time and energy, but no money. When you're a proper working adult, you have energy and money, but no time. And once you've retired, you've finally got time and money, but no energy. So I don't think your choice is that strange at all. Let alone vain."

"Well, that's one way to get depressed," Astrid huffed.

He gave her a wry smile. "Leave it up to me to brighten the mood, I guess."

"No worries, it won't keep me up at night," Astrid shrugged. "So what about you? What would you pick? If you remembered the question, you probably thought about what you'd answer too."

"I did," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "It's… interesting, but I always thought the answer was obvious. Then you made some really good points, and -"

"And I'm interested in your reasoning, not your backpedalling."

"Okay…" He shifted, pushing his bangs back. "I'd choose mind. I'd never thought about those things you mentioned, about the whole 'walking around with a walking frame' part of getting old. Especially with my leg and all." He vaguely gestured beneath the table. "Whenever I think about reaching those ages, my mind always goes to the documentaries, the news reports about people with dementia. Because I just find them so incredibly… _scary_."

Astrid nodded at him and he briefly chewed on his lower lip before he continued. "The thought of getting Alzheimer's, of digressing until you forget yourself and the people around you… I don't think it runs in my family, at least not the early version of it, as far as I know, but I know that doesn't make me immune and it's just -" He sighed. "I know we all die eventually, that's inevitable. But I wouldn't want to go like that."

"Me neither," Astrid softly said, glancing at her hands. "Can I still change my pick? No use in feeling fit if you don't remember what to do with it."

"Or we could team up," he joked, wanting her to smile again. "One preserved body, one preserved mind."

"Sounds like a plan," Astrid laughed. "When I'm old and senile, you just tell me what to do and I will carry you around when you can no longer walk yourself."

"Perfect!" he agreed, grinning. "Match made in heaven."

Astrid cocked her head, observing him as her lips settled back into a slight smile. "It'd seem that way."

Had they both just implied they'd still be in each other's life years from now? Was he reading too much into that? Into the way Astrid's eyes seemed to soften the longer she looked at him, in how he was struggling to remember the last time he'd felt both this excited and this at ease?

He should just ask her. Show that he wasn't afraid to step up and declare he liked her more than he should like anyone he'd talked to this shortly.

"Do you -"

He was interrupted by a loud crash, a shout coming from the other side of the square, the world suddenly larger than just the two of them. He twisted his head to see a guy with fiery red hair stumble backwards, reaching for his eye.

"Dagur!" Astrid jumped up, sprinting in the direction of the sound as the man - Dagur? - balled his fist.

And punched the guy Hiccup only now recognised as Snotlout right in his nose.

"Fuck," Hiccup muttered, rushing after Astrid.

Snotlout recoiled, grasping his nose, blood seeping out from between his fingers as he ran into Dagur shoulder first. Ruffnut and Tuffnut cheered as the two fell over, crashing into the bench Fishlegs had been sitting on until a second ago. What the Hel had they gotten themselves into?

Astrid reached them before Hiccup did, shouting in exasperation at the men rolling around on the ground. "What the fuck are you doing!?"

No one gave her nor the small crowd that had gathered the answer they were looking for. Astrid rolled her eyes, digging her nails into Dagur's leather jacket and pulling him off Snotlout with a show of strength that seemed to surprise Dagur too and left Snotlout on the ground, wide-eyed.

Dagur tried to rush back in, but Astrid yanked him back. "Nope, you're _not _ruining my night, not this year." She twisted his arm behind his back when he moved again, making him yelp. "You can go berserk in your own time!"

"It wasn't my fault!" Dagur sputtered, his left eye blue with something Hiccup didn't know was a bruise or a tattoo. "He hit me first!"

"You were asking for it!" Snotlout yelled, coughing as blood streamed into his mouth from his obviously broken nose.

"Nah." "Not really." The twins countered instantly, crossing their arms.

Hiccup rushed over to Snotlout as he got back up, and put his hands on his shoulders. "Whoah, Snot, calm down."

"Move over," Snotlout insisted. "Let me at him!"

"Dude, your nose's broken," he argued as calmly as he could, trying to use his height advantage to prevent Snot from moving.

"You know him?"

He looked back over his shoulder at a sceptical Astrid, her eyebrow pulled up, Dagur's efforts to squirm out of her hold futile. He didn't know whether to yell at Snotlout or simply stand there and be impressed with how well she handled guys two times her size. Make a bad and inappropriate joke about her handling him, sometime…

"My cousin," he shrugged, trying to make clear that he also didn't ask for this. Out of all the nights Snotlout had to be, well, _Snotlout__… _

"Nice family you got there," Astrid snorted.

"Right back at you."

"Nope." Astrid shook her head. "Best friend's brother."

"Oh my Thor… You broke my nose!" Snotlout suddenly yelped, as if he'd only just realised it.

"Heh. You kind of sound like Hiccup, talking through your nose and all," Tuffnut commented.

"You gave me a black eye!" Dagur yelled.

"I'm gonna sue you!"

"Playing the lead role in a local production of _Grease _doesn't make you an American, Snot," Hiccup bit, trying to glance over Dagur's shoulder, where Astrid was trying to hold her grip. "Astrid -"

"Is there are doctor around!?" Snotlout whined.

"I hope so, cause you need one, to fix your head!" Dagur bellowed.

"Guys, fighting doesn't solve anything, please stop…" Fishlegs tried weakly.

Dagur surged forward with such force that the last thing Hiccup saw was Astrid tumbling backwards on the ground, right before Dagur collided with him and Snotlout. They landed in a pile of limbs, both real and fake, Hiccup's elbow landing right in Snotlout's stomach and Dagur's knee digging into his thigh. He cried out in pain, trying to push Dagur off him but ending up as the heavily abused third wheel, caught in the crossfire while neither Snotlout nor his assailant paid any actual attention to him.

"Alright, _fine,_ then we'll try it this way."

His misery was interrupted by a few flashes of blond, followed by pained yelps from Dagur. Finally free, he sputtered and rolled off of Snotlout. He pushed himself up, glancing around to thank his saviour and finding Astrid next to him, perched up on Dagur, holding his arms behind his back as he was lying face down on the floor. Looking uncannily comfortable, as if she was doing this every day.

"We should probably get out of here before the cops get here," she casually remarked.

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were currently undercover," he grinned, distractingly offering Snotlout a not-so-helping hand while keeping his eyes on the most badass woman in the world. He was happy she wasn't with the police though. He didn't need the idea that she could end up like his father.

"You caught me," she laughed. "I'm trying to get a breakthrough in the curious case of cute guys who only appear on New Year's Eve."

He could feel his face change colour. Along with his hand when Snotlout gripped it, leaving it sticky with blood as his cousin hauled himself up.

"Geez, can no one hand him a tissue?" he asked, agitated. Ruffnut shrugged as if there was no other sensible option, zipped open her coat and tore off part of her shirt, handing it to Snotlout, who promptly pressed it to his nose.

"Astrid -"

"Oh Gods," Snotlout gasped, glancing at the piece of fabric and seeing how red it had gotten in mere seconds. "That's a lot of blood."

"- this is not how -"

"Am I dying?"

"- I thought this would go -"

"I'm definitely dying."

"- but thank you, and -"

"But I'm too young and handsome to die!"

"And I think you should get your charming cousin to the ER," Astrid smiled, softly patting Dagur's head when he struggled again.

"I'm sorry," Hiccup tried. So this was how it ended. His first true chance in seven years.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Astrid reassured him with yet another smile.

That phrase stayed with him as he told her goodbye, dragging Snotlout away from the crowd, the others following in his wake. It was echoing through his head when the clock hit midnight in the waiting room of the hospital and Snotlout lamented this being the worst New Year's ever, his complaints unheard because Hiccup himself simply disagreed. He was on cloud nine despite the hospital smell, despite having to explain to the twins that bringing booze into the ER to 'have a bit of a party after all' wasn't socially acceptable behaviour, despite being semi-traumatised by Fishlegs Googling every single medical condition a nosebleed could be a symptom of. No matter how often Hiccup pointed out that there was a direct correlation between the position of Snot's nose, the unstoppable force that had met it and the voluminous amount of blood.

Astrid's words were still with him when he woke up the following morning, feeling like he had a hangover despite not having drunk any alcohol. But in a good way. The best way. The kind that made him giddy and excited, anxiously glancing at his phone while he tried to go about his day.

And they didn't leave him until by the end of January, Astrid still hadn't called.


	4. New Year's Eve 2017-2019, Part 1

**A/N: One more chapter to go after this one! I hope you guys are still enjoying it :) Thank you for all the lovely feedback! **

* * *

**December 31st, 2017**

Tonight, Astrid was a woman on a mission. To fix the mistakes she'd made. To retaliate against fate, and return the middle finger it had given her last year. Shove it up its ass.

Because what were the fucking odds of finally getting time alone with the guy she'd been intrigued by for years, making her think her life is finally going somewhere, that there is a light at the end of the seemingly endlessly meandering tunnel? Only for her to break her phone by falling on her ass. And lose his number.

She'd found out too late. Too late to rush after him and give him her contact details instead. Too late to try and figure out where Hiccup's cousin might be getting his nose fixed so that she might rush into the ER like the pathetic mess he'd turned her into. Because he had, in a way she couldn't quite explain.

She'd adored every second she'd spent with him. She'd wanted to kiss him, to hold him, ask him to take her home and never let her leave again. Because he'd felt like safety, a sense of security, the direction she'd been looking for that year. And her heart, which had been beating too quickly all night, had completely dropped when she'd pulled her phone out of her back pocket, intending to ask him whether his drama-fuelled cousin had made it out alive, and had found it basically snapped in half.

She'd tried every method Internet-experts suggested to recover the data. She'd taken her phone to a specialised shop, where they'd informed her that there was nothing more they could do for her, and that perhaps she should turn on cloud sync on her next phone. _As if she hadn__'t reached that conclusion herself. _

After that, she'd spent her free time in the first weeks of January digging through every social media website and search engine she could think of. But Hiccup hadn't lied about his lack of social media. No matter how long she tried, she couldn't find a guy with the same cute freckles, gap-toothed smile and messed up mop of auburn hair she just wanted to bury her hands in. No "Hiccup". And it didn't help that that nickname was the only thing she knew about him. She didn't know his cousin's name, she knew what he studied but not where. She hadn't asked him if he lived in Berk or just celebrated New Year's here. She hadn't a clue how old he was, or what his last name might be.

If only she hadn't tried to be funny by filling in his contact name as _Fake Foot Guy_. Then maybe he would've put in his full name. Then she could have Googled a lot better, or even asked around in Berk itself… After all, if only his friends knew him as 'Hiccup', she highly doubted simply that nickname and a physical description would get her anywhere. He couldn't be the only tall, Berkian guy with auburn hair and green eyes. And she didn't know how to explain what it was exactly that made him feel so, _so _special.

Towards the end of January, when she had been starting to seriously consider going to public media channels such as the radio and TV to ask if anyone knew a Berkian Hiccup, she finally sort-of regained her senses. He was just a guy, right? Sure, it had been a month since she'd last seen him, and she still couldn't get him out of her head, he kept showing up in her dreams every other night. His bright green eyes peering into hers, his long arms wrapped around her as he kissed over and over…

But Hiccup hadn't contacted her either. He had her full name, could basically look up and contact her anywhere. She'd kept her eye on all of her apps to see if she'd received messages from people she didn't have added… But he hadn't. Perhaps he wasn't that special after all. Maybe it was just her most recent obsession, filling the void that would normally be filled by another Netflix series. Desperately trying to tag along on his journey, since her own life wasn't heading anywhere else.

She had never been that person. And if she did find Hiccup again, she didn't want him to get to know that Astrid. She wanted to make his life better, like she felt he could do to hers.

But as the months passed, and December came around, she couldn't help but start thinking of again. Because she'd actually done it this year. She was getting her life back on track.

_Remember that joke you made about me being an undercover cop last year? Well, I signed up for the police academy. I__'m currently top of my class. And you helped me get there. _

She didn't know why she hadn't considered it until Hiccup's joke had stirred in her mind. But after the first few months of training, she was convinced it had been the right choice. It allowed her to help people, and to protect them. Which was exactly what she'd always wanted.

And, as much as she felt silly for it, she simply wanted to tell Hiccup. Apologise for losing his number, while also admitting that maybe, it wasn't the right time for them to meet. But she felt better now. And she really wanted to try again.

She wasn't superstitious. But she just needed fate to work in her favour one more New Year's Eve, and allow her to find Hiccup once again.

She had never consciously looked for him before. All the previous years, it had simply happened for no apparent reason. But she didn't want to rely on something so intangible, so unsure. Hoffersons made their own luck, after all.

Hence, she visited every part of the inner city of Berk she'd seen him in before. The stall at which they'd bumped into each other, the cafe she'd wanted to hug him in, the square where they had finally talked. But he wasn't in any of those places, and she figured it was too early for anyone to be at a club.

So she pulled up her jacket, and made another round, trying to tell herself that she wasn't crazy and desperate, just hopeful. That even Heather had told her to try, because Astrid would clearly regret it if she didn't, and to bring Hiccup back with her to the house party she was throwing if she didn't want to lose him again in the inner city crowd.

And then she saw him.

He was on the ice skating rink, rounding the corner significantly more skilled than seven years ago, a smile on his face that told her he was actually enjoying himself. Regardless of his decreased clumsiness, he still managed to bump into a small, blond woman instead of the banister he'd been aiming for, making Astrid chuckle to herself because it was simply adorable. But Hiccup kept laughing too, his slightly embarrassed but overall delighted smile not fading as the woman wrapped her arms around his neck.

And kissed him.

Time cruelly slowed down at that moment, making sure that Astrid saw exactly how Hiccup buried his hand in the woman's hair, and returned the kiss.

It shouldn't hit her as hard as it did. It shouldn't make her feel like someone had punched her right in her stomach, her legs giving out as she was engulfed by an overwhelming sense of panic. The urge to run, to get as far away as possible. But her feet belonged to someone else, keeping her fixed in place and forcing her to _look, _for what felt like an eternity.

Until Hiccup broke the kiss and glanced up, the green eyes she doubted she could ever forget meeting hers. Widening in shock, a word that looked an awful lot like her name forming on his lips.

She fled. She turned around, her back towards him, and she walked away as calmly as she could. Swallowing away the tears she didn't think she could shed over someone she barely knew.

She'd missed her chance.

* * *

**January 1st, 2019**

No one at university had told Hiccup that graduating as an engineer did absolutely nothing for someone's ability to turn themselves into a fool. Because he was definitely still _incredibly _good at that.

Always a fool for Astrid Hofferson.

Even though they'd only really talked to each other once. Despite her not calling him while she'd said she would.

He knew he hadn't messed up his number, and he could come up with a thousand other reasons she hadn't called him back, such as her phone breaking or her being snapped away by Thanos. But it was the reality that he'd forced himself to accept after he'd looked up too many of her social media accounts and had typed out many, _many_ messages, only to delete them again. Whatever connection he had felt, she didn't feel the same way. He was a tragic kindred spirit of _La La Land, _thinking he'd won the Oscar while the accountants of fate had simply messed up the cards. The idea, the notion that there was something between them, almost akin to _soulmates_, which had once seemed like a valuable Banksy painting, had been shredded and reduced to scraps.

Or perhaps it had been more like self-destruction on his end after all. A hope he'd clung to because she was just that damn beautiful.

But he had to move on with his actual life instead of believing in fairy tales. Only British princes got to marry girls who were way out of their league, after all.

Not that 2017 hadn't been good to him. Part of moving on had been saying yes when Camicazi had told him she'd stop stealing his trash if he allowed her to steal him away to a restaurant instead. They'd connected and had quickly started dating. He had dated before, but she'd become his first long-term girlfriend, and he couldn't say he regretted it. It was nice to have someone to talk to, someone to share the house with that still felt too big for him alone. Someone to hug, to kiss, to get support from and to return it to. He had fallen in love, Astrid Hofferson forgotten in the same way she'd forgotten about him. Or so he'd thought.

Until he'd seen her again on the New Year's Eve of 2017.

She'd looked stunned to see him, her face struck by devastation until she'd turned away from him. Exactly the opposite of what he'd expected. Because of course he had anticipated seeing her, had mentally prepared himself for the awkward dance in which she'd pretend to have called him after all, or that they'd never exchanged numbers to begin with. He had planned to tell her that it didn't matter anymore, because he'd found someone who made him happy.

It never came to that, since she fled the moment their eyes had met. He'd always thought she wasn't the kind of person to run from any problem. But apparently he didn't know her as well as he thought he did. Which was logical, they had only spoken once, after all, but he'd had this _feeling_, and he just… tried not to dwell too much on it.

But then Cami moved away from Berk for a job she absolutely adored. They'd agreed that Hiccup would follow her after his own graduation that summer, that they'd find an apartment together and that Hiccup would sell his house in Berk after all. He still hadn't found what bound him to the city so much, after all, thought that it had perhaps been Cami.

Instead, they simply forgot about each other. Their calls and texts lessened every week, their conversations becoming more detached and less intimate as the weeks went by. And while neither of them knew why it happened, the only upside was that it was seemingly mutual. Or at least, that was the conclusion they drew when they broke up by the end of summer.

Their split had definitely hurt him, but when he had worked through his first grief and evaluated their relationship, he couldn't draw another conclusion than that what had happened was incredibly _weird_. That he had forgotten about Cami that easily, while he'd never been able to truly forget Astrid. Especially when the winter months came around and he was properly exhausted off the back of his first months of full-time work, she invaded his thoughts again, with her beautiful smile and confident attitude. He started to hope, somewhere, that he might see her again on New Year's Eve. Just one more year. Because he wondered how she was doing, and wanted to at the very least ask her why she hadn't called. So that he could put a definitive end to the saga that, next to the _Star Wars_ sequels, had been haunting him for the entire decade.

Which is why he felt like a fool, because for all of tonight, he hadn't been able to stop scanning the crowds in every bar and club he, Snotlout and Fishlegs visited. Actively looking for Astrid was a step further than simply hoping to see her, after all. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't enjoy the loud music and the close-quarters dancing all that much. He never had.

It had been in vain of course. Every other year, he hadn't been looking. They'd simply found each other. So by the end of the night, when he got to his bicycle, he logically hadn't seen a sign of Astrid Hofferson.

Until he was done tipsily fiddling with his lock and intuitively checked behind him as he swung his leg over the saddle. And he saw her.

She looked like a vision, her blond hair bound into a ponytail, her face slightly pink from the cold. She was dressed more casually than the last time he'd seen her at a club, but stunning nevertheless. He couldn't imagine there was a day on which she wasn't gorgeous, inside or outside.

But she would never burst that particular fantasy bubble. Because she wasn't interested in him. As she was currently proving by getting on the back of a motorcycle, her arms barely fitting around the waist of a tall, dark-haired man with four times the shoulders he had. Laughing, as if the bodybuilder had made her laugh in a way he'd never gotten the chance to.

Then she flung her ponytail over her shoulder. And her eyes met his eyes, her delight instantly deflating into an expression he was all too familiar with. Which he'd seen enough in the past decade.

Pity.

She started to get off the motorcycle, her eyes set on _him. _But instead of letting that phase him, he finally found the strength to decide that he didn't need her apologies, let alone her pity. Not now.

She was free to call him if she had something to say. He wasn't going to let her string him along. He'd had nearly an entire decade of that, of life, of _fate_ having its twisted way with him. By taking his father away, and by hypnotising him with a prize he could never win.

So he pushed himself off and cycled away, heading straight home.

* * *

**December 31st, 2019 | Part 1**

Hiccup's New Year's Eve resolution stayed with him for the entirety of 2019. He had focused on his work, on building a life for himself that would set him up for the next decade. The hopefully not-so-roaring twenties.

A life independent of his father's memories, of the weird connection to Astrid he still reminisced about from time to time. But he didn't act on it. He knew there was no use in it. She still hadn't called, after all. And he hadn't looked at any of her social media pages to see if she had ended up with her motorcycle hunk.

It wasn't as if he needed her profile pictures to remember what she looked like, after all.

But it was fine like this. He didn't need her in his life, and repeated that to himself every time he caught his mind wandering off to her again. Every time he started wondering what it might be like to see her again.

In those moments he simply reminded himself that he stood above that now. His dreams and creativity were meant for his designs, for his drawings, for stories that happened to people other than himself. If the past year, hell, the past _decade_, had taught him anything, it was that he should stay practical. By taking one step at a time, towards a clear, definable goal that didn't depend on coincidences.

He had been happier for it. It had given him a sense of fulfilment, of independence to be standing on his own feet - _foot_ \- and call the shots instead of wondering about the what-ifs. _What if Dad had still been alive? What if Astrid likes me after all and her not calling me is one big insecurity-fuelled misunderstanding? _

So he had asked himself what would actually make him happy on New Year's Eve, too. And he had made the boring, very adult decision to, for the first time in a decade, stay home. His feet propped up on the couch, a bag of Dutch doughnuts on his coffee table, the entire season of _The Mandalorian _ready on his TV to help him get through the post-_The Rise of Skywalker _void. Followed by _The Witcher_ if he felt like staying up. It gave him every opportunity to cradle his new rescue dog, Toothless, to his chest whenever they both got spooked by the fireworks, and to simply be _himself_.

Comfortable and tucked in in his favourite sleeved blanket, he found himself wondering why he hadn't done this before. Going clubbing with the New Year's Eve crowds _sucked_, and the Berkian weather tonight was even worse than normal, the streets covered in snow and ice. He'd already seen Gobber and Uncle Spitelout that morning, and had agreed to meet with Fishlegs, Snotlout and the twins in the next days.

There was really no one else he needed to see on New Year's Eve.

Not anymore.

And he'd made his peace with that.

He could be perfectly happy in the absence of the most beautiful and interesting woman he'd met in the twenty-six years he'd been alive.

* * *

**A/N: Of course, this is not the end****… One more chapter left!**


	5. New Year's Eve 2019, Part 2

**Thank you all for the lovely comments! Here's the final installment of the story! ^^**

* * *

**December 31st, 2019 | Part 2**

The main conclusion Astrid had drawn in 2019 was that Hiccup still lived underneath a social media-less rock. So while she now had two things to apologise for, she couldn't get in contact with him, no matter how hard she tried.

She wanted to say sorry for still not having called him. And for making him think she had moved on. Because while she had attempted to, while she had thought that simply having fun with one of her colleagues wouldn't hurt, it wasn't true. The moment she had seen Hiccup, she had wanted to run to him and apologise. But he'd cycled away, and by the time she'd convinced Eret to go after him, they couldn't find him anymore. Eret had been awfully sweet about it, had told her that she had made it clear enough that they weren't serious. And that he'd gladly help her work out some of her frustration at the gym or the shooting range instead.

Hiccup was the reason she'd taken Eret with her that night in the first place, after all. Because the closer they had gotten to the New Year's Eve of 2018, the more she had started to dread the thought of seeing Hiccup with his girlfriend again. After all, she hadn't been able to stalk his Facebook and see if they had broken up in the meantime. Bringing someone else with her was the only insurance she could give herself against being humiliated again. That, or staying home altogether. And she wasn't going to let herself be that easily defeated.

It had been uncannily desperate, given that ever since she'd lost Hiccup's number, she hadn't concerned herself with dating at all. Sure, the police academy kept her busy, although she still had time for it if she wanted to. But she found she simply lacked the interest. She didn't need it. She'd been feeling good about herself, and now that she had gotten a better idea of the downsides to becoming a police officer, she still didn't have any regrets. Because while she'd fallen out of love with medicine for exactly those mundane, "this is what you will actually be doing on a daily basis" reasons, she found herself loving this job in spite of those things.

She finally felt like she'd found her place. To the extent a 26-year old could, she supposed. She was, at the very least, no longer worried about whatever came next.

Which is why it was even stranger that she still couldn't get Hiccup out of her head. And that this year, she had headed to the centre of town with more confidence and purpose than she ever had before.

She was going to find him tonight. And no matter the circumstances, regardless of what would be thrown in her way, she would finally apologise to him.

After all, as practical as she was, she also couldn't ignore the way in which nearly every blog or Instagram page shoved this year being the last of the decade right in her face. And while she wasn't superstitious, and she believed in hard work rather than fate, she also couldn't shake the nagging feeling that if she didn't go out tonight, on the last day that belonged to the ten years in which she'd experienced so much, growing from a teenager to someone that she would sort-of call an adult… That after this decade, which had started with Hiccup, she wouldn't get the chance to see him again.

And even if that was her just reading too many self-indulgent Soulmate AU fanfics of _The Witcher_, she didn't really care anymore. Because that was also the agreement she'd made with herself. She was allowed to try for one more day, to finish off the decade and go full circle. And if it didn't result in anything, then that was fine. She would simply let it go, _Frozen_-style.

But she could still hope, right?

So she'd put on her favourite leggings and skirt, topped off by a warm sweater that was both comfortable and accentuated her figure, the front parts of her hair pulled back into a loose bun while the rest hung loose down her back. No pretence. Just her, the way she wanted to be seen.

A few hours before midnight, she parked her bicycle in the street Hiccup had spotted her in the year before. She ventured into town, intending to start in the centre squares and end up here at the end of the night.

Or perhaps not. She hoped not.

While she'd changed a lot over the past ten years, Berk still felt remarkably similar. The stalls of the winter market hadn't stopped selling the kind of items no one really used, although there were remarkably more smart phone cases. While some of the bars had changed, their spirit, many of them proud rip-offs of "Viking culture" and serving pints to match those ideas, had remained.

If someone had asked for her opinion on that rigidness when she was 16, she would have called it boring. Would have reassured anyone that she would leave Berk as soon as she could, and that she would never look back. And now she was here, noting to herself that his would likely be one of her last New Year's Eves as a civilian instead of on duty. She was looking forward to it, to be done with training and start actually serving. But it was also yet another reason for her to track Hiccup down this year.

Now if only he would show himself, that would make her life a lot easier.

She stopped by every place she had seen him at since the moment they'd met. The hot chocolate stand by the river, where people were already trying to secure the best spot to watch the fireworks show. The ice skating rink in the centre, lacking a cute lanky guy stumbling over his fake foot. The street on which Hiccup had charmingly hurled his guts into the snow. The club where she had kissed a random guy for him to see, now embarrassingly empty because it was only just past 10 PM. The corner cafe he'd been sitting at with his friends, perfectly showcasing how handsome he'd become. The bar she'd seen him sitting in behind the window, making her want to hug him because he'd looked so beaten down by the world. _Gruffnut__'s Grunge Grotto_, surprisingly still open, where she had walked away from him after he'd rejected her the year before. The site of their fateful meeting in 2016, when the stars had finally aligned, albeit only temporarily.

Until she finally reached her bike at 11 PM, coming up empty-handed.

But she refused to let that be the end of it. It was very likely that if he was indeed here, and she wanted to believe he was, that she had simply missed him. Berk was still a sizable town, after all. She had to scan the streets better, practice her surveillance and stake-out techniques, go into more bars because it was cold and most people were inside.

She _had to _try harder.

Because with one hour left on the clock, one hour until everyone else would celebrate the start of the new decade, she didn't care anymore about what other people thought, or how desperate and downright crazy she'd become. After all, it simply felt like the right thing to do. To find Hiccup. And finally, truly, scratch that itch that had been bugging her for so many years.

And she couldn't shake the simmering panic caused by the notion that this wasn't how it was supposed to go. That she should have seen him already, because time was running out. That if she didn't find him now, before midnight, that the spell would be broken.

So she quickened her pace as she made another round, checking her phone more often than she should.

_23:07._

_23:16 _and a message from Heather, asking her if she'd gotten lucky yet.

_23:18. _

_23:21, _Heather telling her what bar she and Dagur were at, in case she needed a break.

_23:27._

Then she glanced back up from her phone, and behind the glass window of an Irish pub, she finally caught a glimpse of a familiar face.

It wasn't Hiccup. But she supposed it qualified as the next best thing.

She rushed inside, pushing herself through the crowd until she reached him, the dark-haired over-dramatic diva who had punched Dagur three years ago, adrenaline and _hope _coursing through her veins.

She tapped his shoulder a little more urgently than strictly polite, and she wasn't surprised when he turned around, clearly agitated, only for his eyes to open up in surprise when he took her in.

"You!" he stammered. "I know you!"

"Yes, I'm -"

"No, don't tell me," he stopped her, putting up his hand. "I got this."

"I never introduced myself to you, so it's -"

"Oh, I'm aware." Hiccup's cousin rolled his eyes. "You're the bitch who never called Hiccup."

She clenched her jaw, exasperated. "Excuse me?"

"Look, honey -"

"It's_ Astrid_, actually."

"Okay fine, "Astrid"," he sighed, gesturing with his fingers to put her name between quotation marks. "We can keep pretending I don't know what you did, but I do. You told him you would call, and you didn't. So _obviously _you think my cousin's not good enough for you, which means _I -_" He gestured to himself despite the fact that he was clearly smaller than her, and that she'd proven she could kick his ass before. "- have nothing more to say to _you_."

"_My phone broke_," she hissed between her teeth, counting to ten in her head and repeating all anger management techniques they'd taught her at the academy.

"Oh," Hiccup's cousin stammered.

"And that's _your _fault," she stressed, pointing at him. "If you hadn't started a fight with Dagur, I wouldn't have fallen, I wouldn't have lost Hiccup's number, and I actually could've called him. And since he doesn't know what the word 'social media' means, I couldn't exactly contact him in any other way."

"He has _LinkedIn_," Hiccup's cousin shrugged.

"Where he probably doesn't use the name 'Hiccup'. And that's the only name he gave me," she clarified.

"So now you're here talking to me because…?"

"I'd like to explain to him what happened, because I never got the chance to. Is he here too?"

"No." Hiccup's cousin shook his head. "He stayed home."

Her heart dropped.

_He__'d stayed home. _

_He__'d given up_.

But she couldn't.

"Do you think he'd want to come out after all…?" she tried. "If you text him?"

"I doubt it."

_No, no, no._

"And if I call him? Finally?"

Hiccup's cousin pulled up his eyebrow. "I thought you didn't have his number."

"You could give it to me," she proposed. "Along with your own name, as a back-up. Because you do look like the type with an Insta profile."

"Girl, you have no _idea _how many followers I have. Look for Snotlout Jorgenson -" She cocked her head at him, and he rolled his eyes in response. "No, that's not a stage name or an alias, it's my actual godsdamned name. You see, my family, it -" Snotlout paused, put up both of his hands and took a deep breath, shaking his head at no one in particular. "No, this is not about me. It's already the Snotman-show every other night of the year."

"So you will give it to me?" she asked, only realising her phrasing-failure when Snotlout gave her an exaggerated wink.

"Anytime."

"_Ew_."

Snotlout put his hand on his chest, gasping. "So _rude. _I don't even know if I should help you anymore."

"Oh, _come on_," she groaned, getting her phone out of her shoulder bag and checking the time.

_23:35. _

_Time__'s running out, Cinderella._

"What's in it for me?" Snotlout dared to ask.

"You're helping out your cousin?"

"Am I, though?" Snotlout clacked his tongue. "Only thing I know about you is that you stood him up last time. How do I know you won't do the same again?"

"Because I'm _promising_ you I won't," she stressed, hating how begging she sounded. "And you have my name, you can track me down if I don't keep my word."

"Not enough."

"Then what else could you possibly want from me!?"

"I…" Snotlout continued, smirking as if things were finally coming together. "… will give you Hiccup's number, if _you_…" He got his phone out of his back pocket at the lowest speed humanly possible. "… send me the contact details of the cute redhead you were with three years ago."

"Cute redhead?" She frowned, mentally going over her female friends. She hadn't been with any of them three years ago, not yet at least. It had just been Hiccup, and… "Wait, _Dagur?_"

"That's his name?"

"Dagur, the one you punched in the face because he came up to you and called you, I quote, 'a snack'? That Dagur?"

Snotlout's eyes lit up. "Yes, that's the one!"

"Are you _sure? _The guy who broke your nose?"

Snotlout put his phone to his chest, dreamingly staring out of the window. "I can't help but think of him every time I sneeze."

"_Then why did you punch him in the first place?_" she groaned through gritted teeth, stuck between wanting to leave as soon as possible and getting to the bottom of this because it was just so thoroughly, completely _weird_.

"I just wasn't… in that place, at the time," Snotlout murmured, barely audible above the pub's crowd. He looked down at his feet, as if he were actually embarrassed. "One hundred percent convinced I was straight, lashing out against anyone who dared to suggest anything else because I happened to be into _theatre _and _musicals_, and my Chris Hemsworth posters were hanging next to my favourite characters from _Glee_." He rolled his eyes. "My friend Ruffnut sent me a collage of articles on toxic masculinity as a joke birthday present that year. Turns out they were actually quite useful."

"_Wow_."

"I know, self-insight is truly indescribable," Snotlout nodded to himself.

"Okay…" She took a deep breath. "I can't give you Dagur's number without his consent, -" Snotlout was visibly about to protest, but she put up her finger. "But I can tell you where he is right now, and you can make it up with him and ask him yourself. Deal?"

Snotlout mulled for a bit, then swiped around on his phone and showed her the screen. "Fine."

Contact details, belonging to 'Cousincup'. Accompanied by a series of vaguely familiar numbers.

She quickly copied it, double checking whether she had done it right at least three times before telling an increasingly impatient Snotlout what cafe Dagur was at. They left the pub together and she thanked him, dialling Hiccup's number as soon as Snotlout walked away, her heart beating in her throat.

It rang once…

Twice…

Another time…

Until she finally heard a light beep, and rustling on the other side. "Hello?"

It was him. The slightly nasal yet adorable voice was unmistakably, wonderfully his.

"Hiccup!"

"Yes… Who's this?"

"It's Astrid."

"Oh…" Hiccup stammered. "_Oh_."

"We talked three years ago, at the market, and you gave me your number," she rattled, suddenly nervous. "I fell on my phone when trying to break up the fight, and it broke, so I lost it… I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Hiccup mumbled, sounding awfully distant. "But then how did you -"

"I ran into your cousin just now," she explained. "Snotlout. He gave it to me."

"I see."

"He's quite the spectacle," she joked, hoping to get a smile, _anything_.

"Yeah, I suppose my condolences are in order," Hiccup chuckled, finally.

"They're very much appreciated," she smiled.

A silence followed, and she cleared her throat. "Look, Hiccup, I'm really sorry about what happened three years ago… I tried to track you down on social media, but I couldn't, so I just… I just wanted to ask if you wanted to meet up tonight after all."

It took a moment for Hiccup to respond. "I can't."

She hardly registered his next words, too overwhelmed by her heart being thrown off a cliff and dropping straight into a canyon at least as deep as the Mariana Trench. "I can't leave my dog alone tonight."

"Oh…" was all she could give him, because this was _not _how this was supposed to go. With only twenty minutes left in the decade, her normally quick mind shut down.

_Say something, Astrid, anything. Ask him to go get coffee tomorrow, or the day after, or just sometime. _

"But you could come over here if you'd like to?"

She was dumbstruck for a moment, wondering if that question had just been a fragment of her imagination. But as soon as she registered it, she didn't hesitate to answer. "Yes!"

"Really?" Hiccup sounded more surprised than she was. "How much time do I have to tidy up?"

"That depends on what your address is."

"_Right_. Addresses. Very useful for people who want to… go to places."

She could hear the voice of Chandler from _Friends _in her head. Could he _be _any cuter?

"Chief's Drive. Number three," Hiccup completed.

She put him on speaker phone and quickly pulled up _Google Maps_. She didn't know the street itself, but recognised the area. Exactly on the other side of town from where she lived. No wonder they'd never run into each other.

"_Maps _tells me it should be like 10 minutes by bicycle." She checked the time. _23:42_. Her heart jumped. "So I'll be there before midnight."

"Be careful, though. They're pretty sloppy when it comes to salting the roads over here."

She started walking, her bike only a block or two away. "I'm Berkian, I think I can handle it."

"Of course you can," Hiccup laughed.

"So I'll see you there," she smiled, not quite believing this was actually happening.

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too."

With that, she hung up, and started sprinting. Because she'd been offered a second chance, and she was holding on as tightly as she could.

* * *

"Oh Gods, oh Gods, _oh. Gods_."

Hiccup had not been joking _entirely _when he'd asked Astrid how long he had until she arrived. While he was normally quite happy with the way he maintained the house, the thought of _Astrid Hofferson_ coming over suddenly made the whole place seem like an exploded mess and entirely _dog_.

Toothless watched him with big, questioning eyes as Hiccup rushed around, stuffing doggy toys and blankets in random cupboards, closets, or simply underneath the couch, but didn't seem to intend to help Hiccup out in the slightest. Pretending he wasn't the one who had made the mess in the first place. Instead, Toothless simply laid down on the couch - where he _knew_ he wasn't allowed without Hiccup explicitly saying yes - giving Hiccup a look that clearly said 'what are you going to do about it, you desperate mess?'.

Hiccup himself was wondering exactly the same thing. He didn't know why he'd even popped the question.

_You could come over here if you__'d like to?_

Of course he was lying to himself, because he actually _did _know. He knew that despite him repeating to himself time and time again that he didn't need Astrid in his life, that he was over her, that it was all just a coincidence and that they weren't _meant to be_, that he had been defeated the moment he'd heard her voice on the other end of the phone. He'd tried to play it cool, to make it seem like he didn't care, so he wouldn't get caught up in this _again_. But it'd only taken a few minutes before he'd completely crumbled.

Toothless was right to judge him for it. But it was 2019. The end of the decade in which every year had started or ended with Astrid. And with only a few minutes left on the clock, he allowed himself to be a little superstitious.

So when at 23:55, he found his living room in an acceptable state, he simply sat down on the couch and waited, ruffling Toothless' fur, his good foot tapping on the floor while the minutes crept by.

She'd said she'd be here before midnight. She'd also said she'd call him, three years ago. But he believed her excuse, tried not to beat himself up over not contacting her himself. He couldn't change that anymore. But the least he could do now was believe the new promise she'd made him.

After what seemed like an eternity, Toothless started to whimper as fireworks went off outside, marking the start of the new year.

And Astrid wasn't there.

Hiccup scoffed and sunk deeper into his seat. Of course she hadn't come. She'd just been playing with him again.

Gods, he was a fool. He was so _easy_. One would think that after such a long time, after an entire _decade_, he'd learnt something. She'd been out of his league when they'd met ten years ago, and that hadn't changed. Although he knew now that he _did _have value, unlike his insecure teenage self, he still shouldn't have deluded himself into thinking Astrid truly liked him.

Some girls were simply heartbreakers, after all. And not worth his time.

"At least I have you, right bud?"

Toothless responded with an affirmative bark, and Hiccup supposed that for once, it wasn't too bad that he'd have to vacuum the couch tomorrow to get rid of all the long black Labrador hairs. They could use a hug right now.

But nevertheless, they both sat up when barely five minutes, right after another salvo of fireworks, _the doorbell rang_.

And despite all he'd been telling himself, his heart nearly burst with excitement.

* * *

Astrid hardly looked presentable, snow stuck in her hair and on her clothes, when she finally rang the doorbell of _Chief__'s Drive, 3. _She cursed inwardly when she heard another series of fireworks go off in the distance, confirming what she already knew. She was too late.

What if the spell had been broken?

The fireworks were followed by a short bark, and several footsteps approaching the front door of a house that was very different from what she'd expected. She'd been looking for a student apartment, and had had to check _Google Maps _again when she'd finally skidded into a street with nothing but pairs of suburban family homes. Was Hiccup still living with his parents? But he had been talking about leaving his dog _alone__… _Maybe they were out tonight?

She was snapped out of her thoughts by scratching, followed by a shout. "Toothless, down!"

Her stomach jumped at the sound of Hiccup's voice, and completely filled with butterflies when the door opened to reveal a sheepishly looking Hiccup, his hair sticking out to the sides of his head, and an excitedly panting black Labrador.

She cleared her throat. "Hi."

"Hey," Hiccup mumbled, rubbing the back of his head and smoothing out his hair, making her quickly comb her fingers through her own.

"Sorry I'm late." She gestured vaguely to her bike, which she'd left at the side of the street. "You weren't wrong about them not salting the roads. I almost slipped like four times and had to walk for a while."

"Are you okay?"

"I am."

"And you're here now," Hiccup smiled softly, warming her heart.

The corners of her mouth pulled up at their own volition. "Yeah. Finally."

"Do you -" Hiccup awkwardly stepped aside. "Do you want to come in?"

She nodded and crossed the doorway, only to instantly be sniffed down by Hiccup's dog.

"I'm sorry," Hiccup apologised. "He's very curious."

"Don't worry, dogs don't scare me. Is he okay with strangers petting him?"

"Oh, yeah," Hiccup laughed. "A little too much so, I'd argue. He can't get enough attention."

She knelt down, giving the Labrador some well-deserved scratches and pets. "Did I hear you call him Toothless?"

"Yep."

She laughed, squinting at Toothless' jaws. "From what I can see, he does have teeth."

"I got him from the shelter," Hiccup explained. "He pretended to be a tough guy, like he didn't need anyone to take him home. As I suspected, he was all bark, no bite. Hence, Toothless."

"Why would he end up at a shelter? He's so _cute_."

Hiccup crouched next to her, pointing at where Toothless' left hind leg was supposed to be. But instead, she only saw a stump.

"He lost it in an accident," Hiccup elaborated before she could ask. Like Hiccup himself, she realised. "His owners didn't want him anymore after that. Thought he'd be too much work."

"No wonder he likes to receive some extra love." She made a silly kissing face. "Don't you, Toothless?"

Toothless happily wagged his tail and licked her cheek, clearly saying yes. She rewarded him with a few more scratches underneath his red collar, a dragon-shaped pendant hanging from it.

"Let me get you a tissue for that," Hiccup chuckled, walking down the hall to what she assumed was the kitchen.

She got back up and followed him through a door into a kitchen that was more well-equipped than someone still in, or just out of college should be able to afford, connected to a horribly old-fashioned living room. Whoever did own this house was _massively _into timber and an embarrassing amount of tacky Viking decorations, ranging from historically inaccurate helmets to an actual longboat on display in a cabinet. The furniture was a thrown-together mix of old, Scottish-looking couches and chairs, finished off by a Scandinavian touch. From IKEA, to be precise. The seemingly only item from the 21st century was a big flat-screen TV, paused on a particularly cute shot of Baby Yoda.

"So you like Vikings, huh?" she grinned as Hiccup handed her a tissue and she wiped off her cheek.

Hiccup smiled, shrugging at his surroundings. "You should blame my dad for that, not me."

Ah, so he was indeed still living with his parents, like she'd presumed.

"According to him, if you dive _really _far back into our family tree, you will find us to be actual descendants from Vikings," Hiccup chuckled, gesturing to himself. "Which is why I look like such a warrior."

She cocked her head at him and squinted. "I can kind of see it, actually."

"Sure," Hiccup snorted. "You'd probably kick my ass even harder than Snotlout's."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," she teased, stepping a bit closer so he was forced to look at her. She could faintly smell him, a mixture of typical guy deodorant and something she couldn't completely place. Which was _his. _

It made her want to curl her arms around his neck and get even closer. She was still kind of cold and he looked so warm, so like _home_, so like someone she had had to miss for way too long. How had she done it all these years, been content with only seeing him for a moment instead of every single day?

She hadn't been. She'd been fine, she'd been good, but he looked like the gateway to _great_ and she just had to kiss him, her eyes inadvertently darting down to his lips.

But she didn't completely mind it when he awkwardly cleared his throat instead, because he just looked so darn cute doing it, revealing the gap between his teeth.

"Would you like something to drink?"

She didn't comment on how he sounded slightly hoarse, and how the freckles on his cheeks now contrasted with a colour quite close to pink. She simply smiled to herself, feeling happy and so, so lucky to have gotten here after all.

"Sure. What do you have?"

"Not that much, actually," Hiccup illustrated by pulling open a relatively empty fridge. "I wasn't expecting guests." He rummaged through one of the cabinets, triumphantly pulling out a brown package and waving it at her. "But of course I _do _have hot chocolate powder."

"Well, it's not _real_ hot chocolate…"

"Obviously."

"But I think it'll do."

"Oh, it _will _do," Hiccup reassured her. "My culinary skills shouldn't be underestimated."

He illustrated his point by pulling a pan out of one of the cabinets and twirling it around in his hand, only to almost drop it. She simply chuckled and shook her head as he put it on the stove, awkwardly shrugging at her as if nothing had gone wrong at all.

She let her gaze wander around the room as Hiccup heated up the milk, her eyes following Toothless as he jumped up on the couch, and eventually landing on a side table full of picture frames. Unable to contain her curiosity and since Hiccup didn't seem to mind, she walked over to them.

It was a collection you'd find in most family homes. They were mostly pictures of Hiccup as a child, looking a lot closer to the boy who'd spilt hot chocolate over her coat than the man currently expertly handling a ladle. Quite a few photographs featured a tall woman she assumed to be Hiccup's mother, although judging by the clothing style, they were from the 90s at the latest. The least represented family member was a tall man, wearing jeans and a lumberjack shirt in nearly every one of his pictures.

A man whose face she recognised.

"Haddock…" she mumbled.

"Hm?"

"Haddock," she repeated, looking back at Hiccup. "That's your last name."

"Yeah, Henrik Haddock, nice to meet you," Hiccup smiled. "Did Snotlout tell you?"

"No." She nodded at the photo frames. "I recognise your father's picture."

"Oh." Hiccup frowned and crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. "How…? I mean, where…?"

"We have a wall of pictures at the police academy," she explained. "I enrolled in 2017, and his picture is on there…"

Stoick Haddock, fatally stabbed by an everyday mugger when he'd almost reached retirement age. That's what people had told her when she'd asked for the stories of brave men and women in the photographs.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she breathed, unsure of what to do with herself when Hiccup almost visibly shrank.

"It's okay," Hiccup shrugged. "I got used to having the house to myself."

To himself…

She glanced back at the photos, realising why there were no recent images of Hiccup's mother. She didn't know if she had left, or died, and it didn't feel like the time to ask. She'd simply been assuming Hiccup was still living with his parents, while instead, this house was simply the only thing he had left of them. The decorations belonging to his father, the old-fashioned style of furniture…

It suddenly all made sense. And _gods, _she wanted to hug him, hoping to somehow make up for all he'd lost.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated once again, even though she knew her sympathies couldn't possibly make it any better.

"So you're with the police?" Hiccup asked, obviously trying to change the topic, his voice soft. He'd turned his back to her, focusing on the pan in front of him.

"Yeah, although I'm still in training." _And you gave me the idea to begin with_.

"Do you like it?"

"I do."

"That's great."

He sounded off, so off. Her voice of reason told her she didn't know him well enough to know his 'off', but she walked over to him regardless, leaning on the countertop so she could look at his face. But he pretended to be preoccupied with stirring.

"Is that okay with you?"

Hiccup scoffed lightly. "Why would it matter if _I _amokay with it?"

She didn't know the answer to that question either. "Because it does."

When Hiccup stayed quiet, she continued: "You gave me the idea, actually… Three years ago, when you joked about me being an undercover cop, I kept thinking about that and it just seemed_… perfect. _Becoming a doctor wasn't for me, but I always wanted to help people, and I actually _really, _really like this job." She had no idea why she was justifying herself to him, but she kept going anyways. "I wanted to tell you, to _thank _you, but I'd lost your number, couldn't find any Hiccups on social media, and then on New Year's Eve 2018 I didn't get to talk to you because -"

"Because you saw me with Cami," Hiccup completed. "I know."

"Are you still with her?"

_He__'d asked her here himself, so he couldn't be, right?_

"No. We broke up over a year ago."

And a year ago she was… "And I've never dated Eret to begin with," she implored, because he still hadn't met her gaze again and it was killing her.

Hiccup simply nodded, sucking on his lower lip before he spoke up again. "To answer your question; I don't think I would've been okay with it if you had told me you'd joined the police two years ago…"

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "But it's been five years since he died, and it's getting easier to remember all of the reasons why my dad loved his job. Somewhat. And I'm trying to be proud that he gave his life to save that woman, because I know that if he had been given the choice, even knowing he'd die, he would save her life again." He finally looked at her, his eyes soft and watery. "And if you're like him, then you're simply another person to admire."

Hiccup wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his green sweater, and she instinctively caught his hand on the way down. His eyes flickered down, and for a brief moment she was worried he'd pull away, but instead he interlaced his fingers with hers, making her heart skip a beat.

"Five years ago…" she murmured, taking another step closer. "You were sitting in that bar, and you just looked so…" She squeezed his hand, biting her lip as another piece of the puzzle fell into place. "I get why you didn't want me to come over to you."

"I just _couldn__'t_," Hiccup told her, his voice almost a whisper. He smiled to himself. "But seeing you, even just briefly, made that absolutely dreadful year a little bit less shit. It meant the world me." He softly rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, sending shivers down her spine. "You did, somehow."

_Somehow_. "Those weren't my best years either," she admitted, wanting to be honest with him, finally. "I didn't know where my life was going, I was drinking and sleeping my student days away, and then I saw you at _Gruffnut__'s_ and I…" _I wanted to go drag you into one of the bathroom stalls_. "I just realised that I wanted to be better. For guys like you." She swallowed, suddenly feeling awkward. She wanted to look away, but his green eyes only drew her in, deeper and deeper. "For _you_."

Hiccup's breath hitched. "So you felt it too…? Every year, every time…"

"Of course I did." Because it was so obvious, right? In hindsight, it always had been. "Especially after I'd spotted you that year on the terrace, and you'd suddenly gotten unfairly cute."

"After I'd seen you kiss another guy in the club the year before."

"I remembered seeing you that year, not him," she confessed, drawing in closer, also taking his other hand, which had stilled on the ladle. "I should have known then."

"I should have known when you smiled at me, every time, even if I stumbled over my feet or was hurling my guts into the snow…"

"… especially since I still thought you were cute in spite of that," she chuckled.

Hiccup laughed with her. "I'm such a Prince Charming." Then, softer again: "I couldn't believe my luck when you came to talk to me at the market."

"My heart broke in even more pieces than my phone when I realised I'd lost your number."

"I'd looked up all your socials, but didn't contact you because I thought you weren't interested after all."

The confessions were just pouring out of her, with no end in sight. And she didn't want it to end. "When I saw you with that girl the year after, I thought I'd missed my shot."

"I figured you'd obviously moved on when I saw you on the back of that motorcycle."

She inched in closer, looking for his warmth. "And then this year, I couldn't shake the feeling that…"

"With the end of the decade…" Hiccup nodded, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Tonight was the last chance I had to find you."

Hiccup squeezed her hands. "I'd already given up. I stayed home, thought I didn't need you, that it was fine, that if it was never right before, why would it be right now? I'm so sorry, Astrid, I -"

"But I made it here," she whispered, closing her eyes, her nose brushing against his. "I was too late, I only got here past twelve, but it still feels…"

"… _right_," Hiccup completed, his breath hot against her lips.

And then he kissed her.

She had missed the fireworks at 12 o'clock, but she was absolutely sure that they could never measure up against the ones currently setting her body ablaze. The feeling of his lips against hers made her skin tingle, down from her toes up to where Hiccup softly cupped her cheek, deepening their kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in even closer.

They separated after a glorious eternity, leaving the both of them panting as they gazed into each other's eyes. Hiccup's beautiful eyes, his gorgeously long fingers sliding down to her waist.

"I don't know what this is," Hiccup whispered after kissing her again. "I don't believe in soulmates, or _meant to be_, fate is a bitch after all, and -"

"Me neither," she cut him off, chasing after his lips because it never lasted long enough, because she wanted _more_.

"But - and this is going to sound really sappy -"

"You talk too much?"

Hiccup's face broke into a wide grin, and she couldn't help but smile too.

"I'd like to take this next decade to find out."

She didn't tell him she wanted that too. She simply kissed him, giving him all the confirmation they had both so sorely needed for too many years.

It was obvious to her, after all.

It had taken her a decade to find him. And she didn't want to lose him ever again.

* * *

**A very late Happy New Year and I hope you all have a great new decade too! If you would like to interact with more of my content, feel free to check my page for other fics or to find me over on Tumblr at aleteia-ff**


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